Heaven Was Blue
by kittensandcombatboots
Summary: Bella moves into a house full of strangers, but doesn't know if she can survive with all of the odd characters that she encounters. All Human. AU. Rated M for language, lemons, drug use, and dark themes.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Another new story. This one is a little...bizarre. I'm going to have a different updating schedule than I usually do. Monday, Wednesdays, and Fridays. You'll get longer, better quality chapters. And I won't be driven to suicidal thoughts. I'd love your opinions. Tell me what you think.

Disclaimer: SM owns the characters of Twilight. I just play with them.

* * *

I didn't know what to expect when I answered the ad for the room for rent. I knew it was in a house with a bunch of other people—strangers—but it was cheap. And grad school wasn't . And I could only take out so many loans before I signed my soul and my future over to the bank or the federal government or whoever the hell was in charge of handing out money this week.

So I sucked up my pride and fear and called the number. The girl only asked basic questions: Could I pay first and last month's rent? Did I have a job? Was I a serial killer? You know, normal stuff. And then she just said, "Yeah, sure. Come on by. You can move in whenever you want." This didn't exactly give me much faith in the kind of establishment I'd be living in.

I went to the address she gave me. The place was downtown, and it looked more like an abandoned warehouse than a home. It looked downright shady from the outside, like I might get mugged or tetanus. And I was worried that upon entering, someone would bind my hands and feet, gag me, and torture me. Or maybe I had seen way too many horror movies in my time. Damn Boris Karloff.

I knocked on the large front door and waited. A beautiful blonde girl answered the door with a smile on her face. She was dressed in a red blouse and nice denim jeans. Not exactly what I'd been expecting. She held out her hand for me.

"You must be Bella. I'm Rosalie Hale."

"Yeah," I replied, still in shock, shaking her hand. "That's me."

The girl, Rosalie, smiled warmly at me. "You look scared. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. You're just… different than I thought you'd be." She laughed and it sounded melodic.

She flipped her blonde hair. "Oh, I understand. Downtown crummy apartment. You figure crazies and freaks, right? Well, we won't disappoint then. We have our share staying here." She smiled like it was a joke, but I didn't get it. "Let me show you your room."

I nodded and took a step inside the building.

The first floor was almost completely open. There were a group of un-matching, worn-in couches circled around a coffee table—the living room, I presumed. I could see several small folding tables placed randomly throughout the gigantic room, and each only had one chair beside it. To my left was a kitchen. Well, there were two refrigerators, a stove, and a sink. And then there was a long table with ten chairs seated around it. The floor was concrete, which supported my warehouse theory, but there were mismatched rugs thrown erratically on the floor.

Rosalie pulled me up the staircase.

"Your room is on the third floor. I hope that's okay."

I muttered something about it being fine, while secretly wondering what the hell I was getting myself into. It was only until I made enough money to find some place not creepy, I reminded myself.

"My boyfriend and a couple of the other guys that stay here can help you move your stuff in if you like the place."

I nodded. "Okay. Thanks."

She pointed to a door on her left. "That's mine and Emmett's room. Emmett is my boyfriend, in case you didn't catch that. He's the one that handles all the money."

"Is he here?" I asked. Maybe I should have been talking to him.

Rosalie smiled and shook her head. "No, he's at work. He's the only one around here who has a real 9-to-5 job."

I figured making small talk would help me from freaking out that there were weird drawings covering most of the walls. It looked like they were demons and gargoyles. "What does he do?"

"He's an accountant." I laughed, thinking that it had to be a joke. But Rosalie just shook her pretty blonde head. "I'm being serious."

"Oh."

She ignored me and continued down the hallway.

A door was open, and it appeared to be a bathroom, but it looked like someone lived there. Clothes were hanging up in the shower, and blankets were in the claw-foot tub. And, sitting on the grimy, tile floor in the middle of it all was a scary looking girl furiously etching on a giant drawing pad. Her thin, pale arms seemed to vibrate from the motion of connecting the charcoal with the plain white paper.

I looked at Rosalie for some sort of explanation. She just shrugged.

"That's Mystic."

"Is that her real name?" This whole thing was getting a little creepy for me. I didn't know if I would even survive the tour, let alone living here. It was all too weird, too much.

"No," Rosalie replied curtly. "It's her stage name. She won't tell me her real name. The only people that she has told are Army Boy and Space Monkey." She pointed to the next door. "That's Army Boy's room. If you want to meet him, I can see if he wants to come out to play."

I shrugged, not really sure if I wanted to meet him. These people were weird. Rosalie started pounding on his bedroom door violently. A tall, scruffy, blonde-haired guy opened the door. I looked at his room and it was immaculate, pristine. There wasn't much in there, but it was all carefully arranged. In one hand, he held an acoustic guitar.

"What, Rose?" he asked, clearly annoyed.

She smiled, but I could tell that it was more a sign of power than a friendly gesture. "I wanted you to meet the newest addition to our family. Jasper, Bella. Bella, Jasper."

He dipped his head down and stuck out his hand for me to shake, which I did. "Welcome, Bella. It's nice to meet you." I could hear I slight Southern twang in his voice.

"Texas?" I asked. He smiled and nodded.

"Outside of Houston, yeah. But I don't hear an accent from you."

"Oh, no. Um. I'm from Washington. Well, Arizona and then Washington and then Chicago." He smiled as I randomly told him my life.

"Well, for me, it's Texas, Iraq, Texas, Iraq, and then Chicago."

I looked at him. Army Boy. "You did two tours in Iraq?" He nodded.

"Yeah." I gulped. Rosalie pulled my arm.

"Come on. Up the stairs. Let's see your room."

I smiled apologetically at him and nodded. He waved once with his free hand and disappeared behind his door. He didn't seem too bad.

Rosalie kept guiding me up the stairs to the third floor. She pointed to the room on the right.

"That's where the creepy, little people live. Jane and Alec. They are brother and sister, but they share a room. I'd ask, but I really don't think I want to know. Plus, they've never been late on rent."

She pointed to the door on her left. "Space Monkey. He's weird and stoned half the time."

And then the next door on the left was mine. The room across was our communal bathroom. Lovely.

She unlocked the door to the room and let me in. It was actually much better than I had been expecting. The walls were devoid of occult artwork. The floors didn't have a layer of dust or blood on them. There was a bed and a dresser. And that's it. The room was big enough for my bookshelves, which were a necessity. And I could probably put in a table.

If I could just deal with the people that I lived with, I'd probably be fine.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"It'll work, yeah. I'll move in tomorrow, if that's okay?" Staying at the hotel was draining my money supply. I needed out as quickly as possible.

Rosalie nodded furiously. "That works out perfectly."

The next day I took a cab to my storage unit and piled the thing full with my shit. The ride was going to cost me a fortune with loading and unloading, but I had to get my stuff to the place somehow. Jasper was sitting outside smoking when I pulled up. He smiled and got up to help me, which I thought was really generous since we'd had maybe a two minute conversation.

He seemed like a decent guy. But I figured that he had to be warm. It was a hot, Chicago August, and he was wearing pants and a long sleeve shirt.

"What do you want me to carry?" Jasper asked, holding his arms out.

I felt bad, but I gave him my bookcase. He looked fit. And it was the heaviest thing that I had. Well, it was second heaviest, but I reserved that for the big, muscled guy who walked out of the building with a huge grin. He immediately reached in and pulled out my huge crate of books.

"I'm Emmett," he said. "You must be the girl moving into Tori's room. Hopefully you'll be a better fit here than she was."

I looked at Jasper for an answer. "She was…wild. Aggressive. Arrested." He shrugged.

I asked the cab driver to wait there. He was happy to stay there and leave the meter running, while we made trip after trip. I told them to just put my stuff anywhere and that I'd sort it out later. With two strong men helping, it didn't take nearly as long as I had thought that it would. But I did still have to pay a small fortune to get all of my shit here.

Emmett brought in my last bag of clothes, and I brought in my bedding. He sat it down and leaned against the doorframe. He was tall and strong and, I guessed, he could look very intimidating. But the smile that I had first seen him with still hadn't faded.

"Hey, Bella. Um. It's tradition that when someone moves in we throw them a little party so that they can meet and mingle with everyone. We were planning on having yours tonight about eight. I've already warned the others."

I grimaced. "I don't know. Parties aren't really my thing." And I didn't want to know what a party with these people entailed—probably animal sacrifice and Yahtzee.

"It's just going be dinner and maybe a little alcohol. Nothing intense. We're not really intense people here."

I smiled, because everyone that I had met so far seemed really intense, just in different ways.

"Yeah, okay," I relented.

"Awesome," he replied, raising his eyebrows and then leaving me to sort out my life and worry about what to wear to this shindig.

I decided to just be myself—jeans and a t-shirt. I fixed my hair the best that I could, tried to eliminate the frizziness. And I was so anxious and impatient, that I went downstairs at seven thirty just to see what was going on.

Rosalie and Emmett were in the kitchen making dinner. I couldn't tell what it was, but it smelled delicious. They moved efficiently, in synch with one another. It was odd to watch.

There was a guy sitting on one of the couches reading a book about child psychology. His hair was brown and his eyes seemed to be black. He was dressed just as nice as Emmett and Rosalie, in fashion and designer. I didn't understand how these people with money chose to live in this shitty home.

I sat down on one of the couches near him and started fiddling with my hands, a nervous habit.

"You must be the new Tori," he said without looking up from his book.

"Bella," I said simply. Who was this Tori? And why was I constantly being compared to her?

He lowered the book and leaned closer to me, his hand extended. "Alec."

"You live down the hall from me, right?" I knew that was right, but I didn't know what else to say. I hated small talk. I hated the process of getting to know new people. And tonight I had to do it over and over again.

"Yep," he said, his eyes once again glued to his book. "Are you new to Chicago?"

I frowned. "Yeah. I only got here a few weeks ago."

He nodded once. "If you need any help, I've lived here my whole life."

Wow. These weird people were actually kind of nice. At least the ones I'd met so far.

"Thanks."

A few minutes later, Alec's sister came down the stairs, dancing like a ballerina. She flitted over toward us and sat down next to him. For several minutes, she just stared at me and it freaked me out. It was all intense, like she was trying to kill me with her mind. And then she just shrugged and ignored me.

Right at eight, Jasper came down the stairs. His hands were firmly holding the shoulders of the scary girl from earlier, Mystic. She looked like she was trying to escape his gasp and turn to run away. But he was had a good grip on her.

She was the one that I was the most afraid to meet. And as I looked at her, I just became more worried. The girl was tiny, not even five foot, and she was so thin. Her skin was pale and it looked translucent. Her short, spiky black hair only added to the effect of her skin being porcelain. And the plain black dress that she wore didn't help either. Her eyes were shifty, never staring at one thing too long. There was such a fragileness to her, but at the same time, I was still worried that she might kill me in my sleep.

Rosalie yelled that dinner was ready and we all went to the large table. Emmett set everything in front of us. And we started filling up our plates.

Rosalie frowned and turned to Emmett. "Your brother isn't here."

"I'm sure he'll be here soon."

The only one that was missing was Space Monkey, whoever the hell that was. Apparently, it was Emmett's brother. He busted through the front door a few minutes later. His arms were full and he dashed up the stairs, not bothering to talk to anyone. This didn't seem odd to anyone else, so I kept my mouth shut. I was still trying to figure out how things worked around here.

People kept asking me questions, which I tried to answer the best that I could without blushing. I hated having the attention on me. Where did I move from? Washington. Why Chicago? Grad school. What was I studying? Creative writing. Did I prefer bacon or sausage? Bacon. Did I drink? Sometimes. If it was the only way to survive, would I eat a penguin? Maybe.

Most of the random questions came from Emmett. I could tell that he was trying to put me at ease. And it was mostly working until Space Monkey came back downstairs.

He wore gray jeans and green plaid shirt that only magnified the green of his eyes, which were partially hidden by his black rimmed glasses. His hair was messy. And he looked sexy as fuck. And this was the guy whose bedroom was mere feet from mine.

He sat down in the chair across from me.

"You're late," Rosalie scolded him like an overbearing mother. He just shrugged indifferently.

The guy nodded at me. "You're the new Tori."

I was already sick and tired of being compared to fucking Tori. "Actually, the name's Bella."

He snorted and muttered 'feisty' under his breath, but I still heard him. "Well, _Bella_, I'm Edward. And welcome to our home." He smiled this awful fake smile and then his face became all impassive and apathetic.

There were several seconds of awkward silence. And then they were broken. By Mystic.

She hadn't spoken once since I had met her.

"From childhood's hour, I have not been as others were. I have not seen as others saw. I could not bring my passions from a common spring," she said quickly, desperately. I recognized it. It was a poem by Poe. "From the same source I have not taken my sorrow; I could not awaken my heart to joy at the same tone. And all I loved…and all I loved…and all I loved," she stumbled over the next line.

Everyone else just sat there and continued eating, not even looking at her. It just seemed wrong. How could they ignore her? I mean, yes, this was fucking weird, but they didn't even acknowledge it.

"And all I loved, I loved alone," I said quietly, looking at the girl.

Her head and a few others shot up and looked at me. Her blue eyes stared into mine, and I felt like she could see my soul, it was so probing. She nodded.

"And all I loved, I loved alone," she repeated. "Then, in my childhood, in the dawn of a most stormy life was drawn, from every depth of good and ill, the mystery which binds me still. From the torrent, or the fountain, from the red cliff of the mountain, from the sun that round me rolled in its autumn tint of gold. From the lightning in the sky as it pass'd me flying by. From the thunder and the storm and the cloud that took the form, when the rest of Heaven was blue …" She paused and continued staring at me, as if waiting for me to finish it. So I did.

"Of a demon in my view."

She nodded quickly as if I was a child who had just understood the lesson. "Of a demon in my view."

I didn't understand. The lesson had failed me. I knew the poem, but I had no idea what she meant with it, where she was going, or what the hell I was supposed to understand. Mystic continued to watch me for a few minutes. Whereas before she seemed indifferent toward my presence, she now seemed fascinated by me.

It was weird.

This whole place was weird. And these people were weird. And I didn't know that this was going to work. I didn't know if I could handle this shit on a daily basis. I needed to start looking for somewhere else to live.

"You can't leave," Mystic suddenly exclaimed. How the hell did she know that? And she was clearly talking to me, because when I looked up her eyes were staring at me with sadness. "Bella, don't leave us."

I looked around the table and everyone was looking at me, but not in the 'oh my gosh, what is the crazy girl talking about' sort of way. It was like they genuinely wanted to know why I was moving out. I felt my cheeks blush at the attention. But I was still freaking out. That wasn't something she should have known. There was no way that she could have just looked at my face and known that I was thinking about moving out.

"I'm not leaving," I fibbed. At least not yet. Mystic pouted out her bottom lip, as if she knew that. Could she read my mind? That would be freaky. Can you read my mind?

Everyone continued to stare at me. And it was really uncomfortable. I hated this attention. I wanted to just go up to my room and lock the doors securely.

"Thank you all for this," I said quietly. "But I think I'm just going to go and unpack."

I got up quickly before any of them could say anything and darted up the stairs. For the next few hours, I unpacked my bags, placing my clothes in their drawers or hanging them up in the closet. I put all of my books into the bookcase. And I made my bed.

Then I crept out into the hallway to brush my teeth so that I could go to bed. I quickly brushed my teeth and then I peered out into the hallway. I thought I had the all-clear until I heard a voice that made me jump.

"She likes you, you know?"

I turned and saw Edward, Space Monkey, whatever. He was leaning against the wall by his door. And he ran his fingers through his hair.

I shrugged. "How can you tell?" I assumed we were talking about Mystic.

"She talked to you," he said without any emotion at all. "It took her two months to say one word to me." I didn't know how to reply to that. She liked me. Okay. What the hell did that mean? "Nice trick with the poem by the way. Poe."

"Thanks," I said, though I didn't think that he really meant it.

"Goodnight."

He walked into his room and closed the door.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: If anyone asks, it's Friday. I forget to mention it in the author's note of the last chapter, but the poem that Alice/Mystic recites at the dinner is "Alone" by Edgar Allen Poe. And the one that she takes lines from in this chapter is "The Raven" by Poe.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or the works of Poe.

* * *

My phone rung and woke me up the next morning. I climbed out of bed and walked over to the dresser with my eyes still shut. And I answered it quickly, trying to the cease the loud buzzing and annoying beeping tone.

"Hello," I answered groggily.

"Bella, dear, did I wake you?" My mother. Shit. Six years and I still couldn't get rid of her. "It's nearly nine. You never sleep in. Are you sick?"

"Mom, you're an hour ahead. It's not even eight yet," I explained. It didn't matter how many times I explained it to her she never seemed to understand. Or maybe she just didn't care.

She gasped out dramatically, as if someone had purposely created time zones just to mess with her. "Oh my gosh, honey. I'm sorry."

I blinked several times and wiped the sleep out of my eyes. "It's fine. I'm up now. What did you want?"

"Oh, I don't know." Fuck, she woke me up. She had better damn say something.

"Renee," I said sharply.

"I was just wondering about the new place. How is it? Are the people nice?" This was my own fault. I never should have told her I was moving from Washington. She flipped out about everything, even though it wasn't her responsibility anymore.

"It's…great," I lied. "Everyone is so sweet. But, hey, I have to go do laundry before work, so I better go." That was the worst lie ever. I bet that even Renee could see through it.

"Oh," she said, sounding hurt. "Okay. I'll talk to you later then, Bella."

"Yeah," I said. And hung up the phone.

God, not even eight a.m. and I already needed a drink.

I moved my table out from in front of the door and then unlocked it. It was early and I didn't figure anyone would be awake, so I didn't bother changing out of my short shorts and tank top that I usually wore to bed. I crept across the hall and knocked on the bathroom door softly. I didn't hear anything, so I moved my hand to the door knob. But someone twisted it from the other side.

He opened the door and I swear to god that I tried not to stare, but, fuck, he was wearing only a towel over the lower half of his body. And what was I supposed to do? Not stare at him? My eyes were drawn to the plain, white bath towel and then slowly inched their way up—they didn't fail to notice the tattoos on his chest right above his heart, but couldn't make out what they were. Finally, my eyes reached his face. His mouth was in a frown and the intense burning in his eyes made him look livid.

"Done ogling?" he asked impatiently.

I flushed bright red and turned around. I wanted to go back to my room, lock the door, put the table in front of it, and hide under my bed. But I think that he still would have been able to feel my embarrassment from Manhattan. Or Timbuktu.

He grabbed my arm and pulled me back around. "Go ahead," he said as he stepped out of the doorway. "I'm done."

"Um," I said as I stared at the floor so that I wouldn't be tempted to look at him again. "Do you know if Rosalie is here?"

"Why the hell would I know that?" he replied. God, what was his problem? I looked up at him, feeling my eyes hardened. I hadn't done shit to him.

"God, _Space Monkey_, it was just a question."

He growled. Yes, growled. "Did you get that from Rose?"

I shrugged, indifferent to his anger. "Yeah."

"Yeah, well, Rosalie if a bitch and she doesn't know what the hell she is talking about."

I laughed once. "You may be right about the second part. She said you were weird. She didn't say anything about you being a fucking pretentious asshole."

"I'm pretentious?"

"That's what I said," I replied tersely.

The door down the hall opened up and Jane stuck her head out; she looked pissed. "Could you guys just cut the foreplay and get to it? Because some of us are trying to sleep." The echo of the slammed door echoed through the hall. And probably through the house.

He and I stared at each other for a few more seconds. I rolled my eyes and walked past him into the bathroom. And I closed the door in his face. That man was an arrogant, self-centered pain in the ass. And I was not going to be able to live next door to him and not kill him.

When I came back out of the bathroom, he was nowhere in sight and I was thankful for that. I wasn't an aggressive person normally, but I wasn't afraid to stand up for myself especially when I had done nothing wrong. And I hadn't. I asked a question. He was the one that went all psycho on me for it. A simple 'no' would have gotten the point across.

I put on clothes and headed down the stairs. Even though I had just been trying to get off the phone with my mother, I really did need to do some laundry. And Rose hadn't said anything about that yesterday. I needed to ask her. That was all I wanted her for.

And then he had to yell at me for it. My god. I just wanted to smash his perfect face against the wall repeatedly.

"Don't worry about him. You shouldn't…you shouldn't worry about him. It will be okay. It will all…be okay. Don't leave," a small voice said quickly as I lifted my arm to knock on Rosalie's door.

I turned around. She was sitting on the floor of the bathroom again. She kept looking at the floor and shaking slightly. "He… he has his reasons for being who he is. He has his reason for being here. Everyone here does. Everyone has a purpose. A place. A secret. Some of us have more than one. Two. Some of us have lots. What's your secret, Bella?"

She looked up at me and stared into my eyes again. And it freaked me smooth out. She was not normal. This was not normal. This was _Twilight Zone_ shit. I was just waiting for the portal to take me to the land of talking, killer dolls.

"Oh, I don't know," I replied. She smiled softly at me and it was the first time that she looked like an actual person to me.

"It's okay. You'll tell me eventually."

And, shit, I believed her. I didn't know if it was like a jedi mind trick. But she said it with such certainty that there was no room for doubt. I was going to tell her something.

"Is Rosalie here?" I asked her.

She turned her head to the side, so that it was facing in the opposite way of Rosalie and Emmett's room. "Jasper can show you the laundry mat down the block. He's free until noon. That's when your shift starts, right?"

I nodded. I didn't even want to know how she knew all of this. I stopped questioning it. I was just going to go with it until someone explained it to me.

I walked back toward Jasper's room and knocked softly on the door. He opened it a few seconds later with a smile. "Laundry, right?" I nodded. "She warned me last night. Go get your stuff. I'll meet you in the living room."

"Thanks for this, Jasper," I said. He was so sweet. So unlike that jerk-off upstairs.

"It's no problem, Bella. I'm happy to help a lady in need." I smiled and nodded.

Then I went back upstairs and threw all of my dirty clothes into my big laundry bag and grabbed detergent. I noticed that the door to his room was open when I left my room, but I forced my eyes to stay straight ahead. It was better not to give him any ammunition.

Jasper was sitting on one of the couches when I was finally carried all of my crap downstairs. He took my bag from me and put it on his shoulder and didn't even listen when I tried to protest. He just smiled and held the door open for me.

The sloshing of the washers and the steady hum of the dryers was almost enough to put me to sleep at the laundry mat. But I kept myself awake. It would have been rude to sleep when Jasper had gotten out of bed early to come with me.

"Why Chicago?" he asked, taking a seat in the orange, plastic chair next to me.

"I got accepted into Northwestern's Creative Writing program. And it's one of the best in the country. I couldn't pass up the offer no matter how much it's going to cost me," I answered honestly.

"What do you write? Plays? Poems? Novels? Short stories?"

I blushed. "I've written a novel, but it's not very good. It's too romanticized. It's not at all an accurate depiction of life."

"Don't downplay your accomplishment. You've written a novel. That's incredible."

I smiled. "Thanks."

"So what's it about?" I blushed again.

"Heartbreak."

He cocked one eyebrow up. "How do you romanticize heartbreak?"

I shrugged. "I think it's something that we all do. If it, life, is just pain, then it's pointless. But if there is a reason behind the pain, a story or love or something, then the pain is a reminder of what we had or of what we could have. I don't know. This all sounds stupid. Ignore me."

Jasper shook his head. "No, I understand. It's kind of like the whole idea of a just war, right? If there is a reason to fight, if something bad will happen if we don't, then we must go to war. To not would be worse. So I did." He looked down at the gray and black tile of the floor.

A dryer buzzed and I jumped. I didn't want to push him to talk to me. But I couldn't just leave it alone. I felt like I had to tell someone. And maybe he would get it.

"My best friend…Jacob, he went to Afghanistan. He died. Friendly fire. That's the fucking stupidest euphemism I've ever heard." And then I swallowed hard.

He put his hand on my shoulder and just let it rest there. "I agree."

We were silent the rest of the time at the laundry mat. And the entire walk back. Jasper handed me my bag of clean clothes back at the foot of the stairs. I wrapped my arms around him.

"Thank you. For everything," I said. He just nodded and went to the kitchen.

I had started working at this little diner not far from school. And, luckily, the…house wasn't too far away, so I could make it on foot without worrying about catching a bus or a cab. What I had failed to take into account was how an eight hour shift would kill my feet and then I had to foot it back home. But the time I opened the front door, I was ready to collapse.

I sat down next to the door and indulged in how cold the concrete was even though the night was warm. It felt amazing on my sore and swollen feet. I closed my eyes and tried to relax when the door opened again.

Suddenly there was a clattering as stuff hit the floor. "Shit, Bella." I recognized his voice. And I opened my eyes against my better judgment.

Edward was kneeling down and picking up tubes of paint. I picked up the ones that had scattered by my feet and handed them to him. "You paint?" I tried to make it sound as neutral as possible, even though I was shocked. I never would have guessed.

He took the paints from me and piled them with the rest in his arms. "Yeah." And then he went upstairs.

Wow. Our first conversation that didn't involve me wanting to kick him in the nuts. Though I wasn't really sure if three words total counted as an actual conversation. Maybe I could handle Edward, but only in small, succinct doses.

I got up off the floor and realized that I was in desperate need of a shower. I smelled rank and I was starting to make myself gag. That was so unattractive.

I forced my heavy legs up each and every one of those stairs that led to the third floor, mentally cursing Rosalie and architects and the inventor of stairs. I finally made my way into my bedroom. I changed out of my work clothes and wrapped a towel around my body. I grabbed my shower stuff and headed to the room across the hall.

My shower was quick; I didn't want to be a bother if someone else needed in. I washed my hair, lathered up, and shaved my legs. And then I dried off and walked back across the hall. I tried to open my door, but it wouldn't budge.

"Shit," I exclaimed.

I dropped my shower stuff on the floor in front of my room and contemplated my next move. I needed to find Rose. She had to have an extra key. But that meant walking past his open door in only a towel. It was either that or never enter my room again.

I walked quickly and just when I thought I had made it without his notice, I heard his annoying, smooth-as-fuck voice. "That's an interesting wardrobe choice."

I turned back around and faced him, trying to hide the blush on my cheeks. I was hoping that I could pass it off as anger. "I locked myself out of my room."

He smiled, but it didn't seem malicious. It seemed sympathetic, but I wasn't going to let my guard down that easy. Not for him. "Yeah, that's the thing with these doors. Once you lock them, they kind of stay locked."

"Good to know," I said. "I'm going to go find Rosalie."

"I can open it for you," he offered.

What the hell? Why was he being nice all of a sudden? "Why are you being nice?"

He groaned loudly. "Fuck, Bella, I can open your door," he said. "Or you can parade around the house in your little towel trying to find Rosalie. But she and Emmett are out fornicating in public places. The choice is yours."

And it wasn't like I really had a choice. I had to let my nemesis open my bedroom door. "Fine."

He shrugged. "I don't know if I want to do it now."

I wanted to strangle him. "Oh my god. Open the fucking door."

"Only if you say please." He smirked and I felt my stomach muscles tighten. I was so confused. Now I wasn't sure if I wanted to strangle him or rip off all of his clothes and ride him. Maybe a little of both. Kinky.

I didn't want to say it. Because then he won. And he couldn't win because that meant that I lost. But standing in front of him in a towel wasn't doing anything for my mental state.

In a monotone voice I said, "Please, Edward, can you open the door." For several seconds, he stared at me.

"You called me Edward."

"That's your name," I reminded him.

He rolled his eyes. "I know what my name is, fucking smartass." And then reached above to the little ledge above his door and brought down two tiny metal bars.

He walked over to my door and stuck one bar into the lock. I stood there watching him. "Would you prefer it if I called you Space Monkey?"

"You can call me whatever you want," he said, but he didn't really sound that interested in the conversation.

"Why does she even call you that?" I asked. He turned to look at me for a couple of seconds and then went back to the task at hand.

"Because, supposedly, I'm high all the time. Space, high. Human, monkey. I don't know. My nickname for her is much better." I saw him smile briefly.

I heard the lock click and then he turned the knob. And, miracle of all miracles, it opened. I wanted to hug him, before my mind realized who I was talking about. Space Monkey. The boy whose mood swings were giving me whiplash.

"Thanks," I said when he turned back around to face me.

"No problem."

He started walking back to his room.

"Hey," I said and Edward turned back around. "What's your nickname for Rosalie?"

He smiled. "Self-centered, gold-digging, psycho bitch."

I snorted. Embarrassing.

"Catchy," I said.

"I thought so," he replied, still smiling. "Goodnight, Bella."

"Good night, Edward."

I couldn't sleep at all. Nightmares. I kept seeing Jacob lying on the ground, his once-energetic black eyes completely lifeless. And I just couldn't take it, so I went downstairs to get a glass of water from the kitchen. I saw her sitting on the top of the kitchen table with her legs crossed. Near her was a glass of water. She smiled slightly when she saw me. And I went to sit in the chair in front of her.

"Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary…The Raven. Edgar Allen Poe. And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming. And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; and my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor shall be lifted--nevermore!"

I was trying to keep up, to pay attention. She knew Poe obviously. The other poem was his too. But what did it mean? She had seemed more cognitive when we had spoken this morning. And now she was back to riddles.

"A raven. A blackbird. Or maybe a crow. A vulture. Circling, always circling. They can smell death in the air. And they shriek and they yell. And we fear them and hate them because of what they do to survive. Vultures. But that's how they live—death, decay, and life. One process. One thing. All together."

I took a deep breath and try not to let it show on my face how much she was freaking me out. She was bizarre, for certain, but she hadn't been anything but nice to me. She was different, unlike anyone that I had ever met.

"Will you tell me your name?" I asked. "Rosalie says that some people call you Mystic."

She shook her head and her long thin fingers started tracing a pattern on the table. "That's the name that the man uses when I'm on stage. I don't like it. But…I do what I must. We all do what we must to survive. I'm a vulture. I'll do what I have to do to stay alive."

I nodded. "You're right. We all do what we must to stay alive."

"Mary Alice Brandon." I barely heard her as she whispered it. Her words disappeared like shadows in the darkness. "But Jasper calls me Alice."

"Can I call you Alice?" I asked. She nodded twice very slowly.

"But only around Jasper or Edward because they are the only ones that know. It's not that I don't…I do. Rosalie and Emmett and nice people. I just…I don't…They aren't. I trust you. I know you."

I swallowed. "How can you know me? We just met?"

She shook her head no. "I saw. I should have known. But I wasn't paying attention. You are. You're her."

She saw? And who the hell was the 'her' that she was talking about? Did I even want to know? Could I handle this place?

"Thank you for trusting me with your name."

"Please, Bella, don't leave. We need you."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: It's Monday. I didn't cheat, though I'm sure at least one of you wishes that I had. Alice's poem for this chapter is "Dream Within A Dream" by Poe.

Things I don't own that are mentioned in this chapter: Alice in Wonderland, the works of Poe, Blake, Thomas, Faulkner, Orwell, Huxley, Plath, Woolf, Austen, Lessing, Atwood, or the Bronte sisters. I also don't own Twilight.

* * *

I learned a lot in just one week at the building—my new name for it, since it didn't seem appropriate to call it a house, apartment, or warehouse.

I learned that every Tuesday is grocery shopping day. This means that either you chip in and let Rosalie pick out all the food or you go down there and buy the stuff that you want yourself. On my first grocery shopping day, I went to the store with Rosalie and Edward. It surprised me that he would willingly spend time with her, until I realized that it was about control than anything. None of the others cared what she bought, so she had free rein over them. Edward wasn't about to allow that.

Immediately upon entering the store, Edward grabbed a cart and took off quickly and as far away as the dingy, little supermarket would allow. Rose smiled at me like she had just won the Academy Award or something and took my arm in hers. There was something about her that I didn't like. On the surface she seemed like a nice young woman who welcomed all kinds of strange people into her home. I'd never seen blatant signs otherwise, but I still couldn't believe that she was the sweet, perfect girl that she presented herself as.

Another thing I learned about the building is that different parts of the house smell differently. The first floor smells like dust and Pine-Sol. The kitchen smelled like onion. The second floor—where Rosalie, Emmett, Alice, and Jasper lived—smelled like canned air freshener. The air right outside of Jane and Alec's room always carried the scent of designer perfumes. And Edward's room, I could tell from constantly passing it, held the distinct smell of marijuana. My room smelled like boring.

I also learned that every Friday some of the people play drinking games, which had been cancelled last week for my welcoming party. It was only a few of the people—the cool kids—so I didn't expect to be invited. I holed myself up in my room after work and started reading _Emma_ for the hundredth time. This was pretty much how I had spent most of my weekends in college. I was a nerd, barely capable of social interaction and now I lived with seven people and they were always intense. And I felt out of place, like I didn't belong here in their world.

There was a knock on my door. I climbed out of my bed, the book still in my hand, and I hoped that it was either Alice or Jasper. Jasper was sweet. And Alice was clearly unstable, but she had been nice to me. What I found was him.

My relationship with Edward was pretty much this: we avoided each other as much as possible. He got on my nerves with his insane reactions to normal things. And I got on his nerves because I did normal things. When there were more than a few words spoken between us, one of us usually looked like we were about to strangle the other. I didn't understand it. He was aggravating and beautiful and he pissed me off more than anyone I had ever met. Then, every once in awhile, out of nowhere, he would do something kind of nice. And that just angered me more. I wanted him to at least be consistent in his jackassery.

"Yes?" I asked, trying to not sound bitchy, even though he was pretty much the last person that I wanted to see right now. I would have even taken Jane over him and Jane still tried to kill me with her mind every time we were in the same room.

He looked down at the book in my hand. "Oh, you're reading. I'm interrupting. Wait, what are you reading?" he asked, his tone changing from lifeless to livid. "Is that Jane Austen?"

"Yes," I replied defensively. What the hell was wrong with Jane Austen?

He pulled lightly at his bronze hair. "I knew it. You probably love Charlotte and Emily Bronte too?"

"What's wrong with that? Do you hate all women writers?" I asked, feeling myself stand up straighter. I didn't know if it was instinct or because of the program on bears that Charlie made me watch when I moved to Washington. You make yourself look bigger so that they won't attack. Or maybe you were supposed to play dead.

Edward pulled off his sexy, smart glasses and put them in the front pocket of his plaid shirt. He looked as if he was about to school me in all that was wrong with women writers. "There is nothing wrong with women who write. I had just hoped that you would admire some whose works aren't solely about love and marriage. Doris Lessing. Virginia Woolf. Margaret Atwood. Sylvia Plath. All amazing female writers who had more to say than that which girl should end up with which man."

I wanted to stab him in the throat with my favorite black pen. How dare he assume that I don't read any of those women? Who the hell was he? And there was nothing fucking wrong with Jane Austen.

I walked over to my bookshelf and started pulling books off, calling their names off as I threw them onto my bed.

"_The Golden Notebook. The Grass is Singing. The Handmaid's Tale. The Bell Jar. A Room of One's Own._ So, you can shut your fucking mouth, Edward."

He smirked, apparently pleased that I was so pissed at him that I was throwing stuff. "So you read women, have you read any men?"

I stomped back over to him and put my hands on my hips. "My senior research paper was an examination and comparison of dystopian themes in early twentieth century English literature, with a special emphasis on Orwell's _1984_ and Huxley's _Brave New World_. Just because I'm not as cool and edgy as you doesn't mean that I don't know shit. God, you know nothing about me, so stop fucking judging me."

He stared at me for a few more seconds and then shrugged. "Come play with us."

"What?"

"We're playing Have You Ever? and we know everyone else's answers. And like you just said, I don't know you."

Emotional whiplash yet again. First, he attacks one of my favorite authors. Then he insults me by claiming that all I care about is love and marriage. And, finally, when I prove that I'm not a brainless bimbo—the ones that he's probably used to dating—he just changes the subject. What the fuck?

I pursed my lips, realizing that, even though I kind of hated Edward, if I wanted to feel like a part of this place, then I couldn't just hide up in my room. "Fine."

"Awesome," he said impassively and turned back around. My signal to follow him.

Jane, Alec, and Jasper were sitting around the kitchen table. I slid in next to Jasper. And, lucky me, Edward sat beside me.

Alec placed a shot glass in front of each of us. And then he filled them up with vodka. "Okay," he said, telling us the rules, even though everyone besides me knew how to play. "One person says something that they've never done. And if any of the other people have done it, then they have to take a shot. Got it?"

I nodded and smiled to myself. If this was a game about things that I had done, then I was probably never going to have to take a shot. For once in my life I was thankful for my naïveté and innocence.

Alec smiled. "I'm first." He laughed to himself once. "I've never kissed a man."

Fuck. Jane rolled her eyes, but slammed back her shot. I winced but did the same, feeling it as it went down.

Apparently this thing went clockwise, because then Edward was talking. "I've never gotten paid for sex." Jasper laughed. I just watched as both Jane and Alec took a shot.

What?

"That was cheap," Jane said, her dark eyes alive with fury.

Edward shrugged. "But I hear you aren't."

She smirked. "Don't be jealous because you can't afford me." Was she being serious?

Alec looked at me and smiled. "Bella, you look lost. Has no one told you yet?"

"Told me what?" I asked quietly.

"Jane and I, we're escorts." Uh.

"Escorts as in…" I trailed off, but Jasper answered for me.

"Whores." Alec frowned.

"That's not the most polite term, but it suffices."

I coughed. "Um, no. No one told me."

"Well, now you know," Jane said with a sneer. "Your turn, baby Bella." Bitch.

I thought for a few seconds. "I've never gone skinny dipping." There was a collective groan as they all took their shot. Alec moved like magic and filled up the glasses quickly.

"We're going to have to do something about that," Jasper said with a smile and I felt my cheeks redden. "I've never slept in Edward's bed."

I smiled when I saw Edward take his, but it turned into a frown when Jane took her shot as well. I didn't know why I was frowning. Edward could have anyone in his bed that he wanted. It wasn't my business to care about, even if it was an evil whore.

Jane glared at Jasper. "I've never killed anyone." It seemed like a low blow. Really? You're going to talk about him being in the army?

Jasper took his shot without a word. And I suddenly saw a hand grab mine and down it. I turned to see Alice staring at Jane. "Do we have to do one for every person that we've killed or will one shot for all of them work?" I couldn't tell if she was being serious or joking, but Jane looked like she was about to shit herself.

Jane pushed away from the table and walked quickly up the stairs. Alice took her seat and handed me my shot glass back. Jasper patted her on the shoulder lightly and frowned.

"You didn't have to do that," he said.

"She was being a bitch and…and it was only going to get worse. Much worse. Bad. I'm here to help." She smiled at me and I was thankful for a few seconds. Then she said her statement. "My turn. I've never lusted after Edward."

Damn that psycho pixie to hell. She stared me down. And I just took the fucking thing and swallowed it, my eyes never leaving her face. The second shot wasn't any more pleasant than the first.

We kept going around and around. And I discovered some very interesting things about the people that I lived with. Jasper and Alec like to sing karaoke. Edward once dressed up as a smurf for Halloween. And Alice knew more about me than I would have liked her to. Every round during her turn, I had to drink.

After six shots, I wasn't feeling very stable. I wasn't a big drinker—like maybe I'd had a glass of wine once and a few beers when my roommates dragged me to parties—and shots on an empty stomach was probably not my most brilliant idea ever. I started laughing at Jasper's rendition of _Hit Me Baby One More Time_ and fell out of my chair. Graceful.

It took Jasper and Edward both to get me back in my chair. "She's sloshed. Someone should take her upstairs," Jasper stated, laughing hysterically.

"No, I'm not. I'm fine," I whined. I didn't want to leave the fun. It was the first time that I had felt at home here. And Edward and I hadn't fought once since we started drinking.

Alice smiled at me. "She needs to go upstairs." I frowned. I thought that we were friends. I thought that I was supposed to be here. What was wrong with making friends and being happy? I wanted to be happy.

"I'll take her," Edward said. "I have to get up early and go to the gallery anyway."

No. I didn't want to go with Edward. I wanted to stay here with Alice and Jasper and Alec. I wanted another shot. But it seemed that I had no choice in the matter. Rosalie may have acted like she was everyone's mother, but Alice was the real boss of the house. From what I had ascertained, she saw the future, glimpses of it. And whatever she said became law.

Edward stood up and stretched his arms above his head, which caused his shirt to ride up slightly. I glanced away when I saw just a little sliver of skin. I had already seen him without a shirt. I didn't know why it affected me so much. Must have been the vodka.

"Come on," he said, grabbing my arm and forcing me to stand up. Meanie. I crossed my arms over my chest and pouted out my lip. I knew that I was acting like I was five years old, but they were acting like I needed a babysitter.

I walked quickly and managed to break his grip on me. I stomped up the stairs, which just made them laugh until I tripped. I felt a strong arm wrap around my waist and keep me from falling. As soon as I was upright again, he let go of me.

"Just so you know, that had nothing to do with me drinking. I'm just really clumsy," I tried to sound convincing, but the words came out kind of slurred at the end. And he laughed, so I don't think that he bought it.

He followed behind me the rest of the two flights of stairs. And then he walked next to me. I tried not to look at him. "It was fun to have someone new playing," he said.

"Yeah, it was fun," I replied.

We passed his bedroom door and he kept walking with me. "You should come next week. We're playing a movie drinking game for Alice in Wonderland."

I wasn't sure that I heard him right. "Alice in Wonderland? Like the Disney cartoon version?"

He laughed and it sounded so pretty. "Yeah, we have a game for pretty much every Disney movie. And they are Alice's favorites. It was her turn to pick." I opened my mouth to answer, but he just kept talking. "So, yeah, you should come. I mean, if you're free." He smiled.

And it was one of the times when he was being really nice and not a total jerk-off.

I nodded. "Yeah. Sounds fun."

"Great," he said, still smiling. "Good night."

"Yeah, good night."

Sleep was short.

I woke up forty-five minutes later and ran to the bathroom. I don't even know how long I was in there heaving. I kept taking little sips of water, anything to get the taste of puke from my mouth. I felt like shit.

And I was afraid to go back to my room. I didn't want to not make it to the bathroom if I needed to throw up again, so I lay down on the cool, tile floor. It felt so good on my skin that I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I know someone is flushing the toilet. And then two arms picked me up and carried me to my room. I didn't even bother opening my eyes, because I knew who it was. I could tell by his smell, which sounds really creepy but isn't. He perpetually smelled like pot and paint.

"Were you in there all night?" he whispered as he laid me down on my bed.

"Mmm," I replied.

He laughed lightly. "I'm going to assume that means yes. You look like shit. I'll be right back."

"Uhh," I said trying to get his attention. "Too bright." I pulled my blankets over my head. My head hurt so badly that I prayed Edward would come back with an ice pick so that I could shove it through my temple. It would have felt better than the pain I was in.

"Okay," he said.

A few minutes later there was a knock on the door and I wanted to scream at whoever was knocking. But I didn't. The door creaked open and someone placed something on the little table next to my bed.

"Edward said to bring this to you," Alec's disembodied voice said quietly. "I hope that you get feeling better." And then he left.

I slowly uncovered my head and looked at what he had brought. Bananas. A huge glass of water. A bottle of pain killers. And a cup of something that resembled what I had puked up last night. Lovely. I took two pills and a big chug of water. Then, I hid myself back underneath the covers.

The thin, white curtains that covered the one window in my bedroom were useless. The sun was still streaming in. And it hurt to even open my eyes. The brightness wasn't helping in the slightest. And it was so fucking hot underneath my blankets because it was August, but I preferred smoldering heat to my brain pounding.

I heard my door open again and someone come in without saying anything. Someone was fiddling by my window. And then they pulled the covers back. I squeezed my eyes as tightly as I could, but it didn't seem that bad. I peeked open one. Edward was standing with his back to me, adjusting the blanket that he had hung to block out the sun. The room was so much darker than before.

Fuck. He was still being nice. Nice Edward freaked me out. I would rather have jackass Edward who insulted me and took offense to everything. I knew how to deal with him then. Not so much with nice Edward.

"Thanks," I said quietly. He turned around and nodded and then left.

I pulled all of the blankets off of me and threw them on the floor. And I fell back to sleep.

I awoke with a start, sensing someone else in the room. And when I opened my eyes to let them adjust to the dimness, she was sitting with her legs crossed at the foot of my bed. She was just staring at me. I knew which Alice I was dealing with instantly.

She looked down at the bed, while I sat up.

"And I hold within my hand grains of the golden sand—How few! Yet how they creep through my fingers to the deep, while I weep—while I weep!" she said.

More Poe. It seemed to be her poet of choice, though she had also quoted Dylan Thomas and William Blake. She was trying to say something with each of the poems; I knew that. I just couldn't understand. The message was always lost in translation.

"O God! can I not grasp them with a tighter clasp? O God! can I not save one from the pitiless wave? Is all that we see or seem but a dream within a dream?" she finished.

"I don't know, Alice. Is it all a dream? Life? All of our lives? You would know better than I would," I told her, trying to force my brain to focus on the situation even though it was still thudding about. And my stomach was queasy.

She shook her head.

"I don't know. I want to know. I want it to be real, but I can't tell anymore. So many possibilities, so many paths that we can all take. Only a few certainties and even those are getting cloudy, slipping away like grains of sand through my fingertips. And I don't know anymore. I can hardly tell what reality is anymore, unless I'm with him. That's the only time it feels real."

"Who?" I asked, already knowing the answer. It was easy to see the connection that she and Jasper shared. I'd never seen anything physical between them, but I saw so much love when they looked at one another that it made me jealous. He loved her so much. And she felt the exact same. I'd never felt anything like that. I had had boyfriends—a few during high school and college, but I had never loved them. And certainly not the way that those two loved each other.

"Jasper," she whispered quietly. "He loves me, you know? He's never said it, but he imagines it sometimes. He wants to tell me. But he's worried about me, about my reaction. How silly."

"Why don't you tell him?" I asked.

Alice looked at me like I was the one who was crazy. "How am I supposed to tell him?" And then she started shaking a little bit. I sat up and scooted closer to her.

"Don't worry. It will work out," I tried to sound reassuring, but I didn't know shit. She nodded a few times.

"For you as well," she replied in the cryptic little way that she always did. And then she pointed at the cup of green liquid that was on my dresser. "Drink that. Edward made it himself and it will make you feel better."

Alice jumped off of my bed and scurried from the room. I picked the cup up and gagged. And then I closed my eyes and just swallowed it. Every single drop of that nasty liquid. If Alice hadn't said that it would make me feel better, I wouldn't have bothered.

I had to call into work, because coming in hung-over and dealing with people and their food for eight hours didn't seem like a smart decision. And I still felt like shit, so I didn't even have to put on a sick voice. I claimed stomach flu. Close enough.

I did very little at all the entire day excluding a shower and brushing my teeth—both of which made me feel exponentially better. And then I found it fitting to lie in bed and read _As I Lay Dying_. I was about halfway through when my door creaked open slowly. I climbed out of my bed and pulled it open the rest of the way.

He stood there, his forearms all covered in blue and gray paint. His eyes met mine and then flickered down to the book. I sighed.

"It's Faulkner," I said. "You kind of ruined _Emma_ for me."

He shrugged indifferently. "How are you feeling?"

"So you're still being nice?" I asked before I could control it. I mean, it was a fair question, but it definitely came out bitchier than I had intended.

He ran his stained fingers through his messy hair. "Would you prefer me to yell and make the dull throbbing in your head worse?"

I put the book down on the top of the shelves. And then I put my hands on my hips. "I'd actually just prefer you to be consistent. You yell and bitch about random shit and then you are all sweet and take care of me when I'm hung-over. Do you hate me or not?"

Edward pulled of his glasses and then put them right back on. "What the fuck, Bella? Have I ever given you any indication that I hate you?"

"Yes," I exclaimed, instantly regretting it because even the sound of my own voice aggravated the headache.

He sighed angrily and took a step closer to me. "You are so fucking oblivious, aren't you?"

"Apparently," I said with a sigh to rival his. "What am I missing here?"

His hands reached up slowly and held my face in place as he brought his lips to mine. They were barely present before they disappeared. I blinked my eyes back open, which I hadn't even known that I had closed.

"Oh, fuck."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: The rules for the Alice in Wonderland drinking game are from a website called (no lie) and they have a bunch of other movies too. Hope you like this chapter. I'm kind of mixed about it.

Disclaimer: Don't own Twilight or Alice in Wonderland or Heineken.

* * *

I sat up on the counter, which had probably been used for snorting heroin and baby-making, but served as a place to fold laundry. My feet dangled over the edge and swung slowly back and forth. Back and forth. I sighed, staring at the two men sitting in the orange, plastic chairs.

"Can you maybe tell me again why we are at the laundry mat at two in the morning when none of us have laundry to do?" I asked.

Jasper looked up at me and then down at the floor. "Do you want the real reason or do you want the lie again?"

"Truth, please," I said, gripping the counter tighter. This was not going to be good.

"The little pixie said that I need to get your ass out of your bedroom and tell you to stop fucking everything up. Friday night is apparently important."

It was Thursday night, Friday morning. It had been nearly a week since he had kissed me. And I may have flipped out a little. After, cursing at him, I may have slammed the door in his face, and then avoided him like the plague for the next week.

How was I supposed to react? Was I supposed to let him feel me up because we lived in the same house? Or should I set boundaries for someone I lived with? It would just become awkward, seeing him in the hall and on grocery day.

I pointed. "Then why is he here?" Emmett lifted his head and he looked hurt. I hadn't meant it offensively. God, I was a bitch. These people didn't deserve that. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

"There are several reasons why I'm here, baby cakes," he said smiling at me. I was apparently forgiven. "One, I am the only other person who was in the house and not at work—Alec and Jane are whoring it up, Alice's shift doesn't end until three, Rosalie is running lines, and Edward hasn't left his gallery in three days."

"_His _gallery? He has his own?" I asked quietly. Emmett nodded.

"It's where his studio is too." Jasper tapped him on the arm. "Yeah, anyway, you're distracting me from my reasons. Two, Edward hasn't left his gallery in three days. You won't come out of your room. And you've both been acting weird since Saturday."

Jasper swooped in to help double-team me. "And then I have to listen to the little pixie tell me that you and Edward are messing this up. Just tell us what happened. We won't judge you. This is a no judgment laundry mat."

And they both looked at me expectantly, their eyes big and understanding. I just cracked. I took a deep sigh and let the air out slowly.

I trained my eyes on my dangling feet, staring at them so intently that I was worried that I would never be able to look at anything else. "He kissed me."

"Holy fuck," Emmett said. "Edward? My brother, Edward?"

Shit. I had forgotten that they were related. There was no way that this conversation wasn't getting back to him.

"Yeah," I said, my voice squeaking. My cheeks were red. But I just kept staring at my shoes.

"And?" Jasper asked, his voice and interest suddenly piqued higher.

"And nothing. He kissed me. That was the end."

Both of them groaned loudly. "So, you didn't kiss him back?" Jasper asked quickly.

"I was kind of taken by surprise."

Would you have kissed him?" Emmett questioned. They continued to fire off question after question. Quickly. Giving me no time to think.

"I don't know."

"Do you like him?"

"I don't know."

"Are you attracted to him?"

"Well, I mean, he's beautiful. Yes. Clearly."

"So you're saying that you are sexually attracted to him?"

My cheeks burned a brighter red. "Yes," I squeaked out.

"So, you'd have sex with him, you're just not sure if you want to kiss him?" Emmett asked.

I sighed loudly, feeling more frustrated at this whole situation than ever before. I put my face in my hands and tried to just breathe. I didn't know what to do.

"Sorry," Jasper mumbled. "We're not being helpful."

I hopped off of the counter and started pacing. It helped me feel like I was in control of something, anything, even if it was just the speed and direction of my walking. I felt so out of control with Edward. And I liked that sometimes, but it also terrified the shit out of me.

"He's such a jackass," I muttered. "How could he just kiss me? Like that's a reasonable or acceptable answer to the question. It's not. Kissing is not an answer."

"What did you ask him?" Emmett questioned, patting the orange chair next to him. I walked over to them and turned sideways in the chair, resting my feet in his lap.

"I asked him if he hated me. And he said, "You're so fucking oblivious, aren't you?" And then I said, "Apparently" and asked him what I was missing. Then, he just kisses me. And that's when things got all fucked up." Jasper and Emmett looked at one another for a second and then both glanced away.

"I think that you should give Edward another chance to explain himself." I stared at Jasper.

"Why? He was a complete dick to me the first week that I was here. And then suddenly he is nice and kisses me and I'm supposed to give him a chance or some shit. Give me a good reason why."

"Because I know my brother," Em said. "Yes, he's an arrogant son of a bitch, but he has a good heart. It's just been destroyed and I wasn't sure if he would recover after the last time." He looked down at the floor, his jaw clenched tightly. Then, he smoothed out all of his features and glanced at me expectantly. "Please, for me. I'll be your best friend."

I burst out laughing.

"Fine," I relented. "I'll try talking to him."

"Good girl," Emmett said, throwing my legs off of his lap. "Now, that that's resolved. Let's go get some pancakes."

We got back to the building a little after four, because Emmett insisted on eating his weight in chocolate chip pancakes. And Jasper had to give me a piggy back ride because I was so tired that I kept running into walls and falling over. He took me up to the second floor, and I insisted that I could make it the rest of the way up without his help.

I was wrong of course.

I walked straight to the bathroom to brush my teeth and he walked into me, shirtless and glistening with water droplets. And, fuck me, I wanted to rip his towel off and have my way with him. He was so sexy.

I focused my tired eyes on his face and not on his happy trail. "We probably should talk."

"What about?" he replied angrily, leaning back against the wall. I had to stop my dirty, dirty fantasies and keep my knees from hitting the floor.

"About the kiss," I replied quietly. He sighed and walked past me.

"I think that you already made your point by slamming the door and ignoring my existence for the past week."

Edward shut his bedroom door in my face. Oddly familiar. "You caught me off-guard. I thought that you hated me. And then, suddenly, you're kissing me. I didn't know how to react."

He pulled open the door again, still wearing only the towel wrapped low around his hips. "Why are we even having this conversation now? It happened a week ago."

I sighed. "I don't know. I was talking to Jasper and your brother." Edward's eyes got dark and he looked scarier.

"What did Emmett say?" he asked seriously, scarily.

I glanced down at the floor, trying to avoid those eyes. "Not really anything. Just that we should talk. And that's what I'm trying to do, but you're being a dick, so, whatever. I'll be next door if you need me for anything."

The sun was streaming through my window when I felt small hands shake me gently. They were relentless in their attack. I forced my eyes open.

"What?" I groaned angrily.

"Don't take that tone with me," she snapped back. "I'm not the one who is screwing everything up."

"Maybe not, but you're the one who is interrupting my beauty sleep." And then I pulled the covers over my head. A few seconds later, they were in a pile on the floor. I groaned loudly and sat up. "Yes, Alice, what can I do for you?"

"You can get your pretty ass up out of bed and march down to Edward's gallery before work. Because if you ruin my movie night, I'm going to be so pissed." Of all the times, she chose to be completely lucid, it had to be now, right?

"I don't know where his gallery is. And I don't want to talk to him. He's being mean," I whined.

"No," Alice countered. "You were being mean. And now he's all hurt and upset. You need to fix this."

"I don't even know if I like him. In fact, a week ago I kind of hated him."

I kept saying that I didn't know if I liked him, and that was true. I barely knew the boy. But I liked a lot of the things I knew about him. He was an artist. He was well-read. He was independent and resourceful. And, even though he could snap for no apparent reason, he never treated me like I was weaker or unable to handle it. He could be a total jackass. But he could also be unbearably sweet.

She turned around and started looking in my closet for clothes. "Like this has anything to do with you. This is about all of us. Bella, give him one more chance. If it doesn't work out, then I'll never bug you again." She threw a skirt and a top at me. And then left the room.

I put on the clothes, knowing that she would just come back and force something worse upon me if I didn't. I tried doing something with my hair, but just left it. Then, I put on a little make up. Alice was waiting right outside my door.

"Come on," she said, cheerfully. "I'll show you where it is."

She took my arm in hers and we walked three blocks to an unassuming building. She pushed me toward the door. I was just about to open it, when she said, "Be nice."

I took a breath and a step in. The air conditioning instantly froze me in place. It was such a stark contrast to the Chicago summer heat. The inside of the building was beautiful and plain, except for the captivating paintings on the wall. My eyes were drawn to one across the room and I found my feet moving toward it, momentarily distracted from the reason that I had come.

The painting was unlike anything I had seen. It was a coffin, piled high with flowers. I could feel pain and anger and frustration radiating off the canvas. But the emotion that hurt the most was sadness. Every brushstroke breathed with pain. And I couldn't look away, not even when the tears started to blur my vision. I wiped them away.

"It was the first thing I painted after my parent's funeral." I jumped at the voice. He walked up and stood next to me. We both stared straight ahead at the painting. "I've had a few offers to buy it, but I just can't let it go."

"How long ago?" I asked quietly.

"Four years last month. But it doesn't feel like that long."

I didn't know what to say after that. I could have made some comment about how time never stops, not for any of us, not even in death. Or I could have said that I was sorry for his loss, that I couldn't even imagining losing my parents. Maybe I could have quoted Christina Rossetti or Emily Dickinson. But I didn't and neither of us looked away from the painting.

"Do you want to see the one I'm working on right now?" he asked. His voice sounded excited and unsure at the same time.

I nodded. "Yeah."

"Okay," he said, smiling, "follow me." He took off toward a spiral wire staircase that was in the back corner of the room. I followed him up. I would have followed that smile to the ends of the earth.

The room was big, spacious, open. And the floors were dappled with millions of different flecks of paint. There was a small cot in the corner and a mini-fridge. But the focus of the room was a giant canvas. It had to be taller than I was and maybe ten feet wide.

It was of a girl standing on a roof, looking out over the Chicago skyline at night. Her hair had been caught in the wind and was blowing freely. I could feel a sense of adventure, of life. And I wanted to be that girl. I wanted to feel that alive.

"It's beautiful," I said. He looked down at the floor, trying to count the specks or something, anything to avoid my gaze.

"Well, I'm not done. I hope that I can finish it up today."

"Before Alice in Wonderland, right?"

Edward looked up at me and I wished that he was wearing his glasses. His eyes were too fiery and needed something to hide them. Or maybe the glasses would have just amplified that. Who knows?

"Are we just going to ignore that the kiss ever happened?" he asked. I shook my head.

"No." As if I could forget it if I tried. It was burned into my memory. "But maybe you could forget how I was a total bitch to you. That would be great."

"Why did you react so strongly? I mean, you don't like me. That's…whatever. But you flipped smooth out." His eyes were all questioning and soft. And I had hurt him and someone needed to stab me or something for my behavior.

"I never said that I didn't like you. We just don't really know each other. And I don't know why I acted the way I did. I just can't believe that anyone like you would want to kiss someone like me. We're on different planes—you're all bohemian, tortured artist and I'm Boring Bella."

He raised one eyebrow. "Boring is not the adjective I'd use to describe you. Beautiful. Brilliant. Breath-taking. Baffling."

"Bland. Blasé. Bitchy," I countered with half a smile.

"I don't think that you view yourself very clearly." I rolled my eyes.

"I've spent twenty-two years with me. You've spent two weeks. I think I have a better grip on who I am."

"I'd like to have a better grip on you," he said and then started laughing. So beautiful. "That was lame, I know. But it just had to be said."

I smiled at him. "It's fine."

"I'd like to get to know you better, if that's okay with you." I nodded at him in disbelief. He would get bored after an hour, but if that's what he wanted. "Okay. Awesome. I'll see you tonight."

"Yeah. Tonight."

I couldn't focus all through work. I kept thinking about him. And his lips. And his art. And wondering how in hell they were going to turn a Disney movie into a drinking game. But I didn't doubt their magical powers.

And when I walked through the front door nearly ready to collapse, Alice just skipped up to me all cheerful and no longer pissed with me. She dragged me up to my room to get ready. It was evidently important for me to wear the right clothes to watch a movie in a dark room. And she was just the girl to make sure that happened.

I plopped down on my bed and waited to be told what to wear.

"You fixed things with him. Everything is back on course. Clear again, instead of murky."

"You know that I don't understand your visions," I reminded her.

"I know. I don't understand the way you see the world either. It must be so strange," she said, her voice curious. I sat up and shrugged. "Can you tell Jasper that it will be at least seven minutes before we are downstairs?"

And then there was a knock on the door. I pulled it open. And wouldn't you know, it was Jasper. Creepy. I was never going to let myself get used to how strange this was even though all of the others didn't seem to care.

"Alice says seven minutes," I told him. He smiled and nodded, closing the door as he left.

"Put this on. I'll be back in two and half minutes."

For the second time that day, I put on the outfit that my favorite psychotic psychic had picked out. Shorts and a tank top. She had to be kidding. The first floor was always cold. I grabbed a little blanket off of my bed, but the second she was back, she tore it from my grip and threw it as far as the tiny room would allow.

"Don't. It will work out."

I groaned. "For me or for you?"

"For all of us. You still don't seem to understand that we all matter, that what happens to one of us affects the group. Like a web or a body or an ecosystem. Like how every line in a poem needs the other lines to be complete. You don't see it."

"You're right. I don't. But I trust you," I told her. She smiled happily.

When we made it downstairs, Emmett and Jasper were setting up the television and DVD player. As far as I knew, there was only one television in the house and it was Rosalie's, but Emmett let anyone borrow it. They had gotten into a pretty big fight about it and then, suddenly, Rosalie had to run lines every night.

Edward was sitting on a couch with his feet up on the coffee table. He looked so drained, even more than I did and I worked as a waitress for eight hours. His arms hung limply at their sides. His eyes were open, but empty, and his mouth was slightly ajar. I sat down next to him—not too close or too far—and he grunted. I think it was at me and I think it was supposed to be an acknowledgement, but I didn't really speak Guy, so who knows.

I could feel the goose bumps forming all over my skin. It was so cold in here. I glanced over at Edward and there was a blanket on the armrest that I had failed to notice when I had been previously ogling him. He still looked all not present, so I reached past him and tried to grab it.

His arms came up and stopped me. "My blanket," he said absently.

I turned to my side, tucking one leg underneath me. I looked down and then up at him. This usually worked for me. "Please. I'm cold."

He looked like he was debating it. "No. Get your own."

I reached for it again and this time he wrapped his arms around me, pinning mine to my body, and pulled me into his lap. My cheeks flushed with color. Everyone in the room knew that I was attracted to Edward. His own brother knew that I wanted to sleep with him and being like this didn't really help my predicament.

"She won't let me have my own. You're supposed to share yours." I kind of made up the last part, but he didn't know that.

"You're not supposed to tell him that," Alice exclaimed.

"Oops," I said, complete unrepentant. Edward started laughing. "Not funny. She didn't even dress me in proper clothes and then she won't let me have a blanket. And so I'm shivering my ass off over here and I have goose bumps. Be nice."

He ran one of his thumbs against the skin of the arm he was holding. It didn't help get rid of the goose bumps, but it may have caused a few more. "Say please."

"I already did. I'm not saying it again," I informed him. He smiled and let me go. I climbed off of his lap and sat down next to him again. Edward unfolded his blanket and spread it out so that it covered both of us.

Jasper and Emmett left the room and came back with glass bottles. Ew. Beer. It smelled gross and it tasted worse. I grimaced when Jasper handed me a bottle.

"Since Bella and vodka shots don't mix and some of us need to remain relatively sober, we will be drinking Heineken tonight," Jasper said.

No one else seemed to care, so I wasn't going to complain.

"Okay," Alice said, still in one of her lucid moods. "You drink every time that anyone says 'curious,' anyone eats or drinks anything, anyone sings, anyone says 'rabbit,' when Alice cries or whines about going home, and every time the Cheshire Cat appears or disappears."

Gag. I was going to have to swallow a lot of fucking beer before this night was over. The things I do to keep my psychic happy.

"And if you don't go through at least two, Bella, then you're doing shots too," Emmett said. I turned and glared at him. "Don't look at me like that; I saw the look on your face."

I groaned. "Fine, Emmett. Let's just do this."

We were getting closer to the end of the movie and I still had a third left on my second bottle. But it was so gross that I couldn't make myself drink it. I would just take the shots as punishment for hating beer. It had to be better than this shit.

Edward shifted next to me and reached over to take my bottle. He exchanged it with his empty one. Then he took a swig of it, not at all caring that it was beer or that I had been drinking out of it. I leaned closer to him.

"Thank you," I whispered, so that only he heard. He nodded.

"No problem."

Fuck. He was being ridiculously nice again. I leaned in and rested my arm against his and then my head on his shoulder. And I hoped that he would understand what I was trying to say, even though I barely understood what I was trying to say.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: There's a few things that I need to mention and correct, so bear with me. The link to the drinking game didn't work. I'm going to post the link on my profile, if you really want to look at it. Next thing, "running lines." This is all my fault for the confusion and I'm so sorry. I swear that I thought I mentioned it in the story, but I went back and read and I didn't. No, Rosalie does not do drugs. She is vehemently against them. Rosalie is an actress with a part in a play. She is running lines (going over the script) with a cast mate. Again, all my fault. Sorry.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or Heineken or Casablanca.

* * *

They call it writer's block. They should call it 'writer's stupid brain can't form anything coherent and the stupid blank, white screen and blinking vertical cursor are fucking things up even worse.' For most of my life I had loved to read and write. They were ingrained into who I was.

Writing didn't start consuming my life until junior year of high school. That's when I found out that Tyler was cheating on me when some slut who claimed to be my friend. I didn't feel like going out or getting even. I couldn't even process what had really happened until I pulled out a notebook and just started writing. When I looked up from my work, six months later, I had my novel. I spent senior year of high school editing it into pristine condition.

All through college I worked on developing the art of the short story. My roommates would beg me to take a night off, to get drunk, to hook up with someone that I didn't know. They begged for me to stop writing about other people's imaginary lives and start living my own. It was a valid point—I had no life. But I didn't stop. I couldn't stop. I wrote until I got my way into graduate school, one of the best in the country.

And now I couldn't even form a damn sentence.

It was my day off of work and I had planned to spend the entire day locked in my room writing, but, at this rate, I was going to go stark raving mad. I had to get out of my room. I needed to step away from my laptop, maybe eat lunch, and then come back again fresh.

I walked down the hall, stopping at Edward's open bedroom door. I leaned against the door frame. "Hey, I'm going to make me a sandwich. Do you want one?"

He looked up from his giant Jackson Pollock art book and wrinkled his forehead, pushing his glasses slightly down his nose. "Wait, are you still being nice to me?"

He clutched his heart as if it was exploding in his chest. He was mocking me, of course. I had asked him the same question not that long ago.

"Jackass. I'm always nice to you."

"You are never nice to me. But, at least, you haven't done something highly inappropriate like tried to kiss me or something." His lips perked up just enough to carry a trace of a smile.

"Oh, well, you don't ever have to worry about that," I said and turned to walk away, but his voice turned me back.

"Bring me a Heineken."

"It's not even noon," I informed him. Then he gave me the 'what the fuck, Bella?' look. He had perfected it in the few weeks that I had lived here.

"Thanks for the time. How about the weather?"

I bit my bottom lip. "In other words 'fuck off and bring me my beer, woman.'"

"See, Bella," he said without any emphasis, "you already know me so well that you can read my thoughts." I snorted and walked away.

I guess you could say that things were going better between us. I had been worried that he would start handling me with kid gloves, that he wouldn't argue with me or annoy the shit out of me on purpose for his own twisted pleasure. He had asked me my favorite movie and I told him _Casablanca. _Then he proceeded to tear into _Casablanca_. Fucking _Casablanca_. As in, one of the greatest films ever made and he is saying all of its flaws and mistakes and plot gaps. And I argued back for forty five minutes, until he tells me that he loves _Casablanca_ and just wanted to see if I could defend the movie properly. I wanted to take a baseball bat to him.

I walked down the third floor steps. I looked into the bathroom that Alice stayed in. She was lying on the grimy tile floor convulsing.

I froze in my spot for several seconds. It couldn't be real. This couldn't be happening.

I ran to Jasper's room and started banging on the door, but there wasn't an answer. My throat was dry, so I swallowed hard. I continued beating on the door, knowing that it was pointless.

"Jasper," I yelled. "Edward. Somebody. Help. Help."

I walked back to the room and crouched down. My stomach felt like it was about to rip itself in two. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to help. She looked so breakable. And I wasn't helping; I wasn't doing anything to make her better.

It felt like everything was going slow and fast at the same time. I didn't hear Edward's footsteps on the stairs, but suddenly he was in the room with me. He carefully turned her so that she was on her side, still twitching around. Edward pulled off his t-shirt and put it underneath her head. He walked around to her side and looked at her face. She was slightly blue. Then he picked up her wrist and checked her pulse.

"Shit," he muttered quietly.

And I went hysterical. "What do you mean? She's okay. She's going to be okay. Tell me she's going to be okay, Edward. Tell me."

He stood up and wrapped his arms around me. "Her pulse is weak, weaker than I've ever seen when she's done this. But she's strong. She'll fight through this. She always does."

I watched as her body stopped its movements and went limp. Edward squeezed me gently and then let go. He crouched next to Alice opening her mouth slightly. He wiped off the saliva that drained from her mouth. And he carefully picked her tiny form up. I grabbed his shirt that lay ignored on the tile.

"She prefers Jasper's bed, of course, but I'm going to take her to mine. She needs to rest." I nodded, still worried. Alice had to be okay.

The door to Rosalie and Emmett's bedroom opened and Edward glared at them. "Thanks for helping, fuckers," he growled angrily.

"What happened?" Rosalie asked.

He walked right past them as if they weren't there. "What do you care, Rose? You don't even like her. Or any of us. All you care about is you and what you want. You don't care that she could have died while you two were in there fucking, which I disapprove of, by the way. You might get pregnant and who knows what would happen to that poor baby."

"Edward," Emmett yelled.

But he kept walking and I followed behind him. His strength didn't surprise me and neither did his grace. I was, however, a little taken back by how protective he was of Alice. He had known how to take care of her. He carefully laid her down on his bed and I leaned against the doorframe for the second time in just a few minutes.

She still looked so fragile.

"Are you like a vampire?" Edward asked. I gave him a blank look. I didn't know what the hell he was talking about. He nodded at me. "Do you have to be invited in?"

I took a step into his room, feeling awkward. "Apparently not."

Edward pushed his desk chair toward me. "You need to sit. You're shaking." I sat down, feeling my hands tremor as they gripped something. I glanced at the item and realized that it was Edward's shirt.

"You probably want your clothes back," I said before I fully thought through that sentence.

He shrugged. "I'm going to go get her some water for when she wakes up. And you don't like mustard on your sandwich, right?"

I stood up. "Edward you don't have to…"

His eyes got really serious. "Sit." I immediately complied. "I need you to stay here and yell for me if anything happens." I nodded and he left quickly, leaving his shirt still in my hands.

Everything felt so wrong. A few minutes ago, my biggest worry was whether or not I could write a decent sentence. Now, I just wanted her to be okay. I wanted things to be normal—or normal for this fucked up place. I wanted Jasper to be obsessive-compulsive and sweet. I wanted Jane to try to make me combust with her mind. I wanted Emmett to make an inappropriate joke to alleviate the tension. I wanted Edward to be a sweet jackass. And I wanted Alice to be all creepy and terrifying.

I clung tighter to his shirt and pulled my knees up to my chest. I could still feel myself shaking with adrenaline or fear. And I didn't even notice the tears until they were halfway down my cheeks. I wiped them quickly away and sniffled.

He came back a few minutes later somehow balancing two glasses of water, a Heineken, and a plate with my sandwich on it. He handed me the plate and I handed him his shirt. "Eat, Bella," he ordered.

"But, Alice," I said, realizing that I used her name. But it was Edward. She had said it was okay to call her by her real name in front of him. "Is she going to be okay?"

"Alice will be fine, Bella. Right now I'm more worried about you," Edward said smoothly, lacking inflection. He sat one of the glasses of water on the table by his bed and the other next to me. He put his beer on the floor and checked her pulse again, nodding to himself, but not saying one word to me. Then, he pulled his black t-shirt over his head.

"Edward, I'm fine," I told him. I was still curled up into a ball. Probably didn't help me plead my case. I let my legs slide back down.

"How can you be fine? You just saw your friend convulsing on the ground." He said it blankly, unfeeling.

"How the hell am I supposed to act? Am I supposed to yell or cry or what? Or be perfectly calm and lifeless like you? What reaction would make you happy? Please tell me so that I can oblige," I spat at him.

We stared at each other for a few seconds. My eyes felt like they were caught up in a wildfire. And his were as solid as stone. I briefly wondered if he was high right now, because he was way too fucking mellow about this whole thing.

"Bella, shut up," Alice's creaky voice said.

"What?" I asked, setting the plate down on the chair and walking toward the bed. She turned her head to look at me. Her skin was even more translucent than it usually was. She reminded me of the little china doll that I had gotten for Christmas when I was seven—beautiful and haunting.

"You shouldn't say everything you think, especially when it will ruin everything," she said cryptically. Edward didn't understand. Well, frankly, neither did I, but I pretended that I did and that I was leaving him out of the loop.

"You're just going to have to tell me what I can and can't say," I said. She nodded.

"I'm not going anywhere, Bella, so take a couple of deep breaths. Edward is about to go crazy with worry."

"Alice," he exclaimed.

"What?" she said innocently. "You are. You just suck at showing it, so you turn it off and act like an ass, which is your default setting, by the way."

He smiled at her. "You scared us. I'm glad that you're okay."

"I'll be fine," she said. And then she sighed. "Jasper's on his way home. Is there any way that you can go downstairs and soften the blow? You know how he gets."

Edward nodded. "Yeah. I can do that."

"Besides, Bella and I need to have a little chat. Girl talk. You can't be here." She giggled.

"It's my room," he said, his lips turning into a frown.

Alice shrugged. "What does that have to do with anything?" I looked down and bit my bottom lip. She handled him better than I did.

"Apparently nothing," he muttered and walked out of the room, closing it behind him.

She patted the bed next to her and I climbed up, lying down beside her. I stared straight up at the plaster on the ceiling. Alice turned herself on her side and looked at me. I glanced at her sad, blue eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said.

I wrinkled my forehead, incredulous. "For what?"

"For scaring you. For not warning you that this occasionally happens. I really didn't see it coming."

I rolled over so that I was facing her. "I'm fine, Alice. I was just worried about you."

"I'm sorry all the same," she said. "And, please, go easy on Edward. He's a good guy."

I swallowed. "I know. There are just sometimes when I want to shake him until he stops with the chill attitude and acts like he cares about something."

"He cares about you."

I covered my ears with my hands. Alice pulled them away almost instantly. "Don't say shit like that," I mumbled. I rolled out of her grip and lay on my back again.

The door opened a minute later and I watched as Edward's normally blank eyes nearly ejected themselves from his skull. Jasper walked in and mirrored his expression. "Two girls in my bed. This must be a dream."

Jasper laughed. "Only in your dreams would either of them sleep with you. They're more likely to ask me to join." I glanced at Alice. She rolled her eyes and mouthed, "Boys." I giggled.

"Who said that we'd invite either of you at all?" I asked. Their jaws slacked.

I hopped off of the bed and pushed Edward toward the door. "Let's leave these two to talk," I said. Jasper nodded at me.

"But that's my room," Edward said after they shut the door again. I slid down the wall and sat on the floor. He looked at me for a few seconds before sitting down beside me. "So, what did you and Alice talk about? And why did it require being on my bed?"

"We were talking about how you should be nicer to me," I told him. He stared at me, clearly not believing it. "Fine, we talked about how I should be nicer to you."

He smirked. "That's a true story. You're a jerk," he said lightly.

I gasped. "I am not that bad."

Edward tilted his head to the side and looked at me. "You constantly look like you want to strangle me."

I brushed my fingers through my hair in annoyance. "Well, that's because you make me want to strangle you." I stood up, feeling the adrenaline course through my veins. I hated how he could pull these kinds of reactions out of me. I could be perfectly calm one minute and then pissed the next.

"So, honestly, how are you doing with the whole Alice thing?" he asked, his tone changing completely. Edward just ignored my anger and changed the topic. I hated when he did that. Things like that made me want to strangle him. But not kill him, just knock him out for a minute. I needed his prettiness in my life.

I sighed. "I'm fine. I don't understand her. She scares and confuses the hell out of me. But I trust her implicitly," I replied. "Do you know her story?"

He looked down at the flat orange carpet that covered the hallway. "Some of it. Not all. I know enough to know that I'm harboring a runaway. Or was. Whatever. I don't know."

"What do you mean?" I asked, sitting back next to him on the floor.

"Alice has been here two years. And we celebrated her eighteenth birthday a few months ago." I watched as his hands fidgeted. "It wasn't like I didn't know that something was off about her when we first met. She wouldn't speak, only wrote things down on a little notebook. I probably wouldn't have even bothered trying to get to know her, but she and I were the only ones living here at the time. The others all moved in later."

"You were the first to live here?" I asked. "Then why…?"

He sighed. "Why does Rosalie act as if she built this place with her bare hands? She used my brother's money to buy it, so, technically, it's hers."

"You still have to pay rent?" I asked, already surmising the answer.

"But of course. I am just another renter." He rolled his eyes.

I pulled all of my hair to one side. "How long have you lived here?"

"Four years. Right after the funeral," he said quietly. "I couldn't deal with it. And then Em and Rosalie…I just had to get away from home."

"You and then Alice. Who moved in after that?" I asked, trying to figure out the order. Maybe it would help me understand the social structure of this place or something. Edward was treated well by pretty much everyone, except Rose. He and Jane occasionally bickered, but it wasn't malicious. Jasper and Alice were more of the outsiders.

"Rose and Emmett moved in a little bit after Alice. She still won't tell Rosalie her real name. Emmett knows. I accidently let it slip, but he pretends he doesn't so that she doesn't have a heart attack. Alec and Jane moved in over a year ago. Jasper's been here nine months. And now you. Three weeks, isn't it?" I nodded.

"You lived in this big place for two years all by yourself? How did you not turn into a character from a Stephen King novel?" I meant it as a joke, but he frowned. And it wasn't one of those 'Bella momentarily made me unhappy' frowns. It was a real one. Despair. Anguish. Pain.

"Lots of pot and whiskey. Painting a little. Drawing on the walls."

"Wait," I said, remembering the gargoyle and demons that covered the walls of the second floor. I had always assumed that Alice had drawn them. "You did those?"

He nodded. "I was…dark for a while."

I didn't know what to say. I didn't even know what he meant, but I was sure that it didn't have anything to do with tanning. Dark. It seemed like such an innocent word until it was placed in the context of an eighteen year old who had lost his parents and moved to Chicago on his own. Dark. Someone who abused pot and alcohol and drew creatures that belonged in night terrors. Or painted pictures of coffins.

Edward cleared his throat. "You know that if Alice and Jasper are having sex on my bed, you are helping me burn the mattress."

I laughed and nodded. "Yeah. I'd say that's fair. But where would you sleep if that happened?"

He smiled and raised his eyebrows at me. "What are you saying, Bella?"

"I'm saying that there are a lot of couches downstairs. Surely one of them pulls out to a bed." I bit my bottom lip, smiling, and looked down at the floor.

He shrugged and pushed himself up from the ground. Then he offered me a hand. "If I have to burn my mattress, I'll just sleep at the studio until I get a new one."

I pulled on his hand and stood up. "If you live at the studio, I'll never see you."

"You want to see me now? You don't want to strangle me?" I shrugged.

"Can't I do both?"

He raised one eyebrow and smirked. "You can do whatever you'd like to me." I tried my hardest…best to ignore the suggestive statement. And how his voice sounded like fucking auditory velvet. "And anyway, you could come visit me at the studio. You can even if the bed remains undefiled."

He was inviting me to his studio. I couldn't explain why, but it felt important. It felt like a big step. He was allowing me to come into his creative space. This wasn't an invite that was handed out like flyers to a college kegger.

"I wouldn't want to interrupt," I said, trying not to look at him, even though he was inches away.

"When do you work tomorrow?" he asked. I didn't know if he was changing the subject again or ignoring me.

"Noon to six," I replied, following him down this rabbit hole to wherever it would lead.

He nodded to himself. "I usually take a break about eight to eat dinner. You could come by. We could order take out."

My cheeks blushed slightly, but didn't feel as red as they normally did. "Would this be like a date?" It wasn't like I was going to say no either way. But I wanted to know the terms. No surprises or misunderstandings.

"It would be like you and me getting to know one another."

I let out an exasperated sigh. "Yes or no?"

Edward took the hand that he had previously used to help me stand up and held it firmly in his. "Bella, would you like to have a dinner date with me tomorrow night?"

I flashed a smile, before pulling it back in. I tried to look indifferent. "I don't know, Edward. This is a little last minute. I need to check my schedule." He growled quietly. I loved that. I wanted to jump him every time he growled. "Okay, yes. I would love to." As if I could say no.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: So, it's not Monday. Well, somewhere it is and that is why I'm giving in and posting this now. That and peer pressure. This chapter is a monster. 4,500 words. And it deals with some heavy stuff. And some light stuff. Some jokes. A little kissing. Hopefully it will be to your liking. Tell me if it sucks.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. But I could really go for some Thai right now.

* * *

I remember getting the phone call last year during my History of the English Language discussion class. I wasn't able to check my phone until fifteen minutes later when class ended and I started walking back to my dorm. Under my clear umbrella, I carefully pulled my new phone out of my pocket—it wasn't that I had money to purchase new phones whenever I wanted, I was just very clumsy, always dropping my phone on the sidewalk and into puddles. The call was from Charlie, my dad. He wouldn't call unless it was important; I knew that.

My stomach began to feel queasy as I hit the button to call him back. And when he answered, his voice was low and shaky and I didn't know what happened, but I knew that it was bad. I started shaking because I didn't know what to expect. I assumed something horrible. And I was right.

"I'm sorry, Bells," he said quietly. I remember squeezing my eyes shut tightly, trying to keep the tears in and failing miserably.

"What happened?" I asked. My throat was so raw that I didn't even recognize my own voice.

"It's Jake." There was a pause. And in that second all of the time that I had spent with Jacob Black ran through my mind like old home movies. "He died."

I don't remember the next few days—whether or not I went to classes or ate or even slept. I don't remember the drive back to Forks from Seattle. All I remember is standing at the gravesite, looking at an American flag and praying that this was all a nightmare, that I would wake up any moment and that he would be there. But he wasn't. Jake was gone.

I stood in front of Jasper's door, my hand raised to knock and ask if he needed to go to the laundry mat before work, but he pulled it open before I could. He smiled easily at me and told me to go get my clothes and meet him downstairs. I assumed the little pixie had been the one to inform him about our little laundry date.

He was waiting for me when I came down the stairs a few minutes later. And, as was typical of Jasper, he took my bag for me and wouldn't let me carry it to the laundry mat that was just a few blocks from the building. I was used to it by now, even if it occasionally irked me. I knew he meant well, that he was trying to be sweet to me. It was how he was raised—to be a Southern gentleman.

I hopped up on the counter, swinging my feet haphazardly, and stared straight at Jasper. I tried to ignore all of the creepy people in the fluorescently-lit building. There was the white guy with dreadlocks who tried to sell us marijuana when we came in. The spaced-out, aging hooker. And of course, the single mom who yelled in a foreign language at her six hyperactive children. Jasper sat stretched out in his chair as if he was completely oblivious to the chaos that surrounded him—the picture of ease.

Like a master taking a pebble from his trainee's hand, he reached out and grabbed one of my swinging legs and held it in place. "What's with the fidgeting? Are you nervous about your hot date tonight?"

I rolled my eyes. "Does everyone know about that?"

He pulled my leg so that I almost fell off the counter. I shot him a dirty look, but Jasper just smiled. "There aren't many secrets in that house. Alice sees the future. We all drink a lot. And Edward knows everyone really well."

"He doesn't know me," I said defiantly.

"He's trying to get to know you."

"Do you mean that he does this with everyone?" I asked, realizing that I was being crabby but not shutting my mouth or apologizing. "How was your date with him? Please tell me there was tongue involved."

Jasper let go of my leg, then used that hand to run his fingers through his dirty blonde hair. He walked over to the counter and hopped up next to me, his feet just inches from the ground.

"What are your issues with Edward? Because if you don't like him, you shouldn't be going on a date with him. He's a decent guy and you're acting like he's beneath you."

I looked down at my hands and they clasped and unclasped. "That's not it at all," I said. I didn't want Jasper to think I was a bitch, even though I had been acting bitchy. "Edward is amazing. He's intelligent and ridiculously sweet and caring and tortured and deep and a pain in the ass. He's caviar. And I'm peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I'm peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that spontaneously combust whenever caviar is nearby, so that he doesn't realize how beneath him I am."

Jasper scoffed. "Don't be self-destructive. He likes you. I know Edward and he likes you, so don't ruin it by trying to make him run away." He laughed. "Besides, if you mess this date up, the pixie is going to have your ass."

I threw back my head and groaned. "Don't even remind me." I turned to him and smirked. "Speaking of the pixie."

Jasper suddenly got really quiet and bashful, focusing on the ugly chairs in front of us. "What of her?"

"How's she doing today?" I asked curiously, thankful to get the attention off of me and my imminent date.

He shrugged. "She's fine."

"Good. Good," I said nodding and smiling. It was such a contrast. He was so forceful when talking to me about Edward, but the second that Alice was mentioned, Jasper became silent and protective. "When are you two getting married again?"

Jasper's head whipped around quickly. "Why? Did she say something that might suggest a wedding? Maybe in the near future?" His eyes were wide, shining almost.

I bit my bottom lip. "You love her," I accused. He shook his head quickly, like he was trying to get out of this mess by denying everything, shredding all of the evidence. "No, you do. I know you do. And you should tell her this. Take her on a date. Bring up the fact that you want to marry her and have lots of babies."

He looked down at the nasty tile floor, his jaw setting in place. "Alice and I would never work. We're both too fucked up."

"You think she's fucked up?" I asked curiously. That didn't sound like something I expected him to say, not about Alice.

"No, I'm fucked up. She's perfect, but she thinks she's tainted or some stupid shit like that because of what happened to her. I don't know what to do or say to change that. God." He slammed his hand down on the countertop. The noise startled the crying toddler in the single mother's arms and made the tears briefly cease. They returned in full-force a few seconds later.

I lifted my right arm and put it around Jasper's shoulders. I could tell that his instinct was to shrug it off, but he allowed me my attempt at soothing him. I wished that I was Alice, that I could see what response would make him feel better, but I wasn't. I had no grand skills that would help me in this situation.

So we just sat there in awkward silence until my clothes were done. And we walked back, him hauling my shit as always. Then I just went up and got ready for my shift at the diner. There weren't hugs exchanged or parting words. In fact, when I walked by his room on my way out, I heard him strumming on his guitar. He had told me once that it helped his to de-stress. It was my fault. I knew that Alice was a sensitive subject with him and I brought her up regardless.

I was such a fuck-up.

Work. A college education meant nothing when it came to paying back student loans and rent and actually being able to eat. I had applied at a bunch of different places around the city, but most of what they offered wasn't any better than waitressing—brunt work, horrible pay, nowhere near being able to write. And the others required a Master's degree. So I stuck with waitressing. It was awful. I kind of hated it, but it was money. And while money doesn't buy happiness, it does keep the government off of your ass for a while.

My six hour shift ended up only being a four hour shift. Kate, the manager, said that because it was so quiet there was no point in me being there. I left happily, thinking that it would give me more time to prepare for tonight. What it actually gave me was time to obsess over every little detail of my attire, every mistake that I could make, every doubt and every possibility was examined.

By the time that I dragged my ass to his gallery, the sun had nearly set—dusk was gone and night had come. It felt soothing in a way to see the day change. Sunsets always gave me hope that there would be a tomorrow. Perhaps they should have terrified me into wondering if I'd ever see the sun again.

Edward pulled open the gallery door and stared at me. He was already pissed off. I was trying to think what could have him so upset, even though I had barely walked through the door.

"Bella, did you walk here?" he asked, clearly unhappy. I tried to answer, but he just kept going. "Please tell me that I imagined that you walked through downtown Chicago at night alone? Do you even carry a weapon?"

"Yes, Edward, I carry a switchblade at all times so that I can shank people who piss me off," I said defensively. "No. If you haven't turned up dead yet, then I think it's safe to assume that I don't have a weapon." His eyes flashed, making the green intensify.

"Don't be sardonic with me with just because I care about your safety."

"Well, don't. I never asked you to," I said. Edward took a step closer so that we were just inches apart. He seemed to have no problem invading my personal space.

He found my wrists and wrapped his hands around them, effectively shackling me to him. "Bella, I'm going to worry. You can bitch all you want about it, claim I'm misogynic for all I care. It doesn't matter. I like you too much to be indifferent to all of the things that could have happened to you on your way here. You're either taking a cab home tonight or you're waiting for me. And maybe both."

He said he liked me. Fuck. And he cared about my safety. Wasn't that what the little pixie had said? He cared about me. It was weird to think.

I had had boyfriends, a few dappled through high school and college, but none of them had ever said anything like Edward's little speech about my safety. Not one of them had ever just said "I like you" and as dopey as it sounds, it made me happy. The others were more about, "I like how you kiss me or suck me or spread your legs."

I leaned in to him so that my cheek was against his chest, breathing in his scent—today he just smelled like soap and paint and Edward. "Can I say something without being interrupted?"

"Yeah," he said flippantly.

"You like me?"

"I thought that we already established—"

I interrupted him. "Yes or no, Edward. One word only. Save explanations and snide comments for later."

"Yes," he said. The way his voice lowered and the smile that I snuck a glance at seemed to suggest that he liked when I argued with him. I'd have to test that theory later.

"You care about me?" I asked.

"Isn't that the same—"

"Edward," I growled.

I glanced up. He was smiling even wider. If he liked it when I argued with him…

I thought back to all of the fights that he had initiated with me just to get me worked up. Did he like to see me angry? Or did he like the yelling?

"Yes," he replied.

"I'm going to be completely honest with you and that might backfire on me, but you terrify me. Not like Alice terrify me. But scare me because I know that I could really like you and you look like a heartbreaker. Every relationship I've had has failed because the guy either cheated or got bored with me and wanted to cheat. And, Edward, we're so different. I don't even know if we could make us work, but I want to try."

"Are you done?" he asked after several seconds. I nodded. "Okay, first, those guys are asshats. Two, you terrify me as well. Three, do you really think that I want someone like me? I have to live with me every day all day. If there were two of me, I would go postal or be high as much as Rosalie thinks that I am." And then he just switched the topic. "Do you like Thai? There's this great Thai take out place a few blocks away. I can get them to deliver."

I nodded. "That sounds good." I was going to try and agree with him. If he liked it when I argued, then agreeing had to get some sort of reaction.

"What do you want?" he asked. I shrugged.

"Whatever you want is fine." Edward groaned quietly. I smiled. "You like it when I argue with you," I said.

He shrugged. "So?"

"So why didn't you tell me that? I thought that you were purposely being a dick every time you dragged me into a fight."

He shrugged again. "Why would I tell you my turn-ons when you haven't told me yours?" I felt my cheeks blush.

"Order the Thai and we can discuss this until the food gets here." He smiled.

"Yes, ma'am."

I wandered around the gallery while he called in our order. The gallery seemed like such a contrast with the building. His gallery was clean, brightly-lit, and pristine. The white walls were spotless and the light wood floors didn't distract from the art. I was staring at one of his more abstract paintings when he came stood behind me. He put his hands on my waist and his warm breath hit my neck.

"So what are the rules for our discussion, Bella?"

"Three things that turn you on. Any three, no matter how weird or embarrassing. And the other person can comment, but not derogatorily." What the hell was I getting myself into? Why were we doing this again? Oh yeah, because Edward said 'turn-on' and it made you lose all brain control. Fuck.

"I already said my first one. Do you have a comment?" Edward asked, guiding me to a little couch in a lounge area.

"I just find it interesting. It makes me look at my time at the building a little differently," I said. And then I took a deep breath. My turn. I stared up at him, at the black glasses that framed his green eyes. Ugh, if he only knew how many times I had fantasized about him fucking me wearing only his glasses. "Your glasses," I said, dropping my gaze to the floor.

"Really?" he asked, his voice surprised. "I'm never taking them off then."

"Please don't." I laughed quietly to hide my embarrassment.

"Don't be nervous, Bella. If you don't want to do this, we don't have to." God, he was being sweet.

"No," I said, forcing my eyes to look up at him. I really was curious. "You're just trying to get out of telling me another one," I joked.

"I like when you curse," he replied easily. "It's hot to hear dirty words come from your pretty mouth."

I bit my bottom lip. "Shit. Damn. Hell. Ass. Bitch. Fuck." I giggled.

"It's your turn, tease." He ran his fingers through his hair, looking slightly frustrated.

"Your hair. It always looks like you just fucked someone."

His response was laughing. So beautiful. "I'm not criticizing your turn-on. Your explanation surprised me though."

"Well, it's true. It does. And I love it."

"When you talk about authors or literature. Intelligence is so sexy."

"I can go on and on about the Romantic poets if you'd like," I said smiling. I'd never considered that anyone would find it…stimulating to hear me talk about old books. Most guys just tuned me out and stared at my chest. Classy.

"Some other time. Right now you have to tell me the next thing I do that turns you on." He raised his eyebrows.

"Okay," I said, feeling my cheeks blush. "So, I like it when you are sweet and caring, but I kind of love it when we are arguing and yelling."

He smirked. "You just had to save that until the end, didn't you?"

"It's kind of weird that we both get off on arguing. I don't think that's normal."

"Normal is just an illusion propagated by the government so that we force ourselves to fit into a box where we won't cause any trouble. There is no such thing as normal. And, even if there was, I would hope that you wouldn't want to be it." I felt my lips twitch into a smile. "What?"

"Nothing. I like hearing your voice. You are usually very succinct."

He stared at me for a few seconds like he wanted to say something. He even opened his mouth, but then we heard someone knocking at the door. Edward took my hand easily and dragged me with him to the door.

It was the delivery guy. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. I was going to offer to pay for mine. "Don't even think about it, Bella. It's a date. I asked you. I'm paying."

"Edward, this is the twenty-first century," I said, annoyed with him again.

"Then you think you'd know by now that I'm going to pay."

The delivery guy left with his money and I pulled my hand from him. I crossed my arms over my chest, staring angrily and hoping that he would get the point. He took a step closer to me, but I backed up and put my hands arms in the space between us.

Edward moved to the right, so I shifted my weight. Suddenly, though, he was on my left. He picked me up and threw me over his shoulder, the bag of food in the hand that wasn't wrapped around my legs to keep me from falling. I stretched one of my arms down and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket.

"What the hell? First you don't want me to pay for dinner and now you are taking all of my money. Decide which one you want, woman."

I laughed, even though I was still pissed at him. "I just wanted to touch your ass," I said jokingly, sliding his wallet back.

"You should have just said so. You can grope me whenever you want," he said without a hint of sarcasm or humor.

Edward sat the bag of food on the couch. And then he shifted me so that he was cradling me in his arms. He had held me like this before when he carried me back to my room after the night of vodka. His arms were sturdy and I felt safe; I knew that he would never drop me. And arguments be damned.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me and kissed him. His lips moved against mine, taking my bottom lip between his. My fingers found his hair and tangled themselves in his bronze locks. I felt a slight pressure and moisture as his tongue licked my bottom lip. I gasped and pulled away.

"Um, so dinner…" I said, trying to distract myself from what had just happened. Edward carefully placed me on my feet, only letting go when I was firmly on the ground. He pulled out the food and divided it between us.

For a minute, neither of us spoke. I was embarrassed at my behavior, practically attacking him. And I couldn't read his reaction at all. It was unnerving. Edward's phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket.

"Hello?" he said. "Yeah, sure."

Then he handed the phone to me. "She walks in beauty, like the night. Of cloudless climes and starry skies; and all that's best of dark and bright meet in her aspect and her eyes." I recognized that voice anywhere.

"What's with the Byron, Alice?"

She sighed into the phone. "You need to relax. Don't get all tense with him after that kiss or he's going to think that you regret it."

"How do you…" I trailed off. Obviously, she knew because she was a damn psychic. Edward glanced at me, interrupting my staring of him. I looked at my food. "I will, Alice. Thank you."

"Don't screw this up, Bella." And then she hung up. So, no pressure. I handed Edward his phone back. He took it and put it in his pocket.

"What was that about?" he asked quietly.

I sighed and decided to just be honest. "She thinks I'm going to screw this date up. She's probably right."

Edward leaned close and put his arm around me. "Just relax. You want to be here with me, right?" I snuggled into his embrace and nodded. "Then, that's all that matters. We'll make it work."

We ate comfortably, talking sporadically. But I still felt like I didn't know the kid. He was such an enigma. Everything I learned about him seemed to be a contradiction to the previous conclusions I had made about his personality. He was quiet and loud. Abrasive and thoughtful.

"What's something about you that no one knows?" I asked, and then I took the final bite of my peanut curry stir-fry.

His green eyes met mine. "What if there's a reason no one else knows? What if it's bad? Do you still want to know?" I nodded. "And you'll tell me something about you?"

I nodded again. "Yeah, if you want."

Edward took a deep breath and stared straight ahead at the wall instead of at me. His jaw tightened. "I go to a shrink once a week."

"What for?" my mouth asked, and then I started feeling like I was prying into his business. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

He squeezed my hand tightly in his. "The file says depression and self-harm."

I swallowed. "Self-harm?"

"Cutting."

With that one word, my mind went reeling out of control. I had seen him sleeveless and without a shirt on. I had never seen marks on his arms. I would have noticed that. Even still, I sat my food on the floor and turned his arms over. He let me without fighting at all. The skin of his forearms was pale and pristine, not a blemish, scar, or freckle.

He sensed my confusion. His fingers began to trace along his upper thigh. "It was easier to hide here. You can't even see them unless I'm barely dressed." I swallowed again. I hadn't been able to speak since he said it. It scared me for him. I didn't understand how anyone could hurt themselves like that. "Are you okay?" he asked. Edward lifted his hand from his leg and put it on my cheek.

"Are you?" I finally managed to ask.

"It's been six months since the last time. I'm not saying that it will never happen again. It's a struggle and some days are better than others."

I turned my head to the side and kissed the palm of his hand. "Thank you for trusting me with that." He shrugged and looked down.

"Tell me your secret."

"I legally emancipated myself from my mom when I was fifteen."

He raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

"Yeah. My parents got divorced when I was a baby and I had always lived with my mom. I didn't even get to know my dad again until after I left my mom."

"Why did you…divorce your mom?" he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

"She was negligent at best and Harry Houdini at her worst. She would disappear for weeks without so much as a word to me. And I got sick of it. I figured that if I was going to be raising myself, I might as make it official and get out of her house." I shifted uncomfortably on the couch.

"What about your dad?"

I sighed. "I knew his name from my birth certificate and I took it to a private detective. He found him for me. I moved to Washington to get to know him. And, eventually, I moved in with him. Charlie's a good guy."

Edward started shaking his head. "I just…I can't imagine." He wrinkled his forehead. "It's hard for me to picture, I suppose, because I was so close to my parents. They were loving and kind, a little over-protective maybe. I couldn't imagine choosing to leave them." He spoke with such affection about his parents. I wished for a family like that, one that was close. I squeezed his hand.

Edward swallowed hard and looked at me, his eyes marred with sadness. "My family was taken from me."

"You have Emmett," I said as I tried to understand.

"I avoid him as much as possible. I don't like dealing with him."

"Why?"

Edward frowned. "Why don't you ask him where my nephew is?"


	7. Chapter 7

A/N; So, I'm not ready to say 'fuck my schedule' just yet. But this week I do plan on being a little more flexible with you all because of how cruel I was last chapter. The chapters will probably be a little shorter, but I'll try to get you one on Thursday and Saturday, before going back to my schedule. We'll see how that plays out.

Also, I'm pimping out this amazing story that I'm reading. It's a WIP, just FYI. It's amazingly written and it's hilarious. It's called "Failure to Thrive" by Julesnerd. I think that you all should read it and leave her lots of love.

Oh, and me too. I like love.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or T.S. Eliot or pancakes or Dr. Pepper.

* * *

From Chapter Six: "Why don't you ask him where my nephew is?"

***

I fell asleep on the cot in Edward's studio while I waited for him to finish painting. True to his earlier word, he refused to let me go back alone. And after dinner he felt the need to paint. I wondered if it was anything like my need to write—like my fingertips were buzzing, itching, and it had to be satisfied. I carried a black pen and piece of paper with me at all times for that very reasons. Regardless of if it was similar, I waited for him.

After everything he had told me, my mind was going crazy with worry and fear and confusion. I stared at him for an hour and watched as he splattered paint all over himself. And then my eyes just couldn't keep themselves open no matter how many times my brain yelled at them.

The next thing I remember is a smooth voice saying my name and then feeling my body float above the cot. It took less than a second for me to know that he was carrying me. My head pressed against his chest and his scent filled my nostrils. His steps were cautious and I realized that we were walking down stairs. Edward flicked off some lights without his hold on me wavering. And then we stepped outside and the warm summer wind caught my hair, twisting it. He got into a cab—I recognized the smell—but I don't know how he managed it. I didn't worry about it though; my weary brain wasn't able to process anything but sleep and Edward.

I must have fallen asleep again in the cab, because we were suddenly going up stairs and I heard Jasper laughing. Someone, probably me, groaned. And I snuggled into Edward's chest even more. Another flight of stairs. More deliberate steps.

"Bella," he whispered.

"Uh," was my exact response.

"Where are your keys?"His voice was so soothing that I almost fell asleep. I tried my hardest to focus on his question, but I couldn't for the life of me figure out what keys were and why I would possibly have them.

"Mm. Uuhmm." Edward laughed quietly.

"Okay, then. You had better remember this tomorrow, because I'm not getting chewed out for this."

A few seconds later I was in a bed. It wasn't mine. The comforter had a different texture. And the pillows were firmer. And it all smelled like pot and laundry detergent. A few seconds after that, exhaustion overtook me again.

My mind struggled to catch up with the sensations when I woke up the next morning. The sun was shining and nothing felt right. Well, maybe it felt right, just not familiar. Another body, a very…happy body was pressed up against mine. His arm was thrown around my waist, keeping me in place. And my hand was on his ass. He wasn't wearing a shirt, so the hard planes of his chest were pressed against my soft, non-muscular body. I probably should have been freaking out and trying to figure out how in the hell I had ended up in his bed, but I was enjoying it too much to care. I was still fully clothed, so I knew I hadn't slept with him. I would have definitely wanted to remember that.

Reluctantly, I removed my hand from his ass. I didn't want to explain that when he woke up. Carefully, I shifted to pull my phone out of my pocket and see what time it was. 8:07. The phone went back in my pocket with another shift of my hips. This caused his happiness to be pressed against my lower stomach. Ugh. It had been a long time since I had woken up next to a guy. And even longer since I'd woken up next to a guy who made me this horny in the morning. I really wanted to help him with his happiness problem but we had been on one date. And I wasn't going to be that big of a floozy. Second date, blow him. Third date, get my legs wrapped around him. But first date meant no action.

"Mmmm," he said quietly.

"What does that mean?" I asked, my voice all crackly and not at all attractive.

"Go back to sleep. We have twenty-two more minutes before the alarm goes off." I sighed and he tightened his grip on my waist, pulling me even closer to him. I tucked my head in and kissed his chest lightly.

I didn't go back to sleep, but I lay there and watched him breathe. He looked so peaceful, so adorable, so vulnerable. I never would have imagined thinking of Edward as vulnerable. To me he always seemed to be in control, but I couldn't deny the things he had told me. And I couldn't deny what I saw with my own eyes.

His alarm clock went off on the table beside me. Edward reached across my body and pressed the off button before I could even think about it. He mumbled something which I didn't catch and rolled over, sitting up on the side of his bed with his back facing me.

"I'll be right back." And then he practically ran from the room.

I assumed that it had something to do with happiness. While he was gone, I climbed out of his bed and started stretching. My shoes were on the floor by the bed; I didn't remember taking them off. Besides that, though, everything was in my pockets or still attached to my body. I stood in his room for a few minutes debating or whether I should stay or go. He had said that he would be back and it was possible that he meant that he wanted me to be there when he got back. But maybe not.

Before my brain could argue with itself too much, he came back and glanced at me standing and then down at my shoes in my hand. And I was staring at the tattoo on his chest, trying not to ogle. Failing, of course. And I did notice that he wasn't happy anymore.

"Hey," he said, brushing his messy hair out of his eyes.

"Hi," I replied quietly. Then I began patting down my no doubt poofy hair.

"I couldn't find your keys last night and I didn't want to just start reaching into pockets." I smiled.

"I know. I remember." Edward reached on top of his dresser. He rubbed his eyes with one hand and then put on his glasses. Ugh. All he had on was black shorts and glasses and his hair was chaotic. If we started arguing, I knew that I was going to tackle him onto his bed. "How did you sleep last night?"

His lips twitched into a smile and he looked down at his bare feet. "Good. How did you?"

"Good."

"Is this awkward for you?" he asked. I giggled before I could contain it. "Because I'm finding it a little uncomfortable. It's not you, of course. You're…great. It's just been a while since I woke up next to anyone. God, why did I say that?"

I bit my bottom lip and walked toward him still carrying my shoes. "It was a good date," I said as I wrapped my arms around him. My lips kissed the familiar line that was tattooed above his heart: 'I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope.'

He put his fingers under my chin and tilted my face up to his. Edward's lips barely grazed mine. "Are all of our dates going to end up with you in my bed?"

"One can only hope." He laughed and kissed me again quickly. "Time for the walk of shame back to my bedroom."

"All five feet until your door," he replied sarcastically. "And I don't think you can call it a walk of shame unless something happened for you to be ashamed of. The only thing that happened last night was sleeping. And you groping me in your sleep, but you can hardly be blamed for your unconscious desires."

My faced blushed red. "You're lying."

"Nope." His fingers felt cool against the flushed skin of my cheeks. "Will I see you before you go to bed tonight?"

I shrugged. "What time will you be back?"

Edward lulled his head back. "I'll try to be back by midnight."

"I'll be sure to stay up until then." He flashed me a smile. And I bit my bottom lip, walking past him. "Good bye."

"Good morning," he said as I closed the door.

I ran back to my room to change into my work clothes—I had an early shift today, which meant that I would have most of my early evening free to relax. But knowing the place that I lived, there was sure to be some sort of unfolding drama. Alice. Jasper. Jane and Alec. Rosalie. Emmett.

Emmett. I needed to talk to him. Or I felt like I needed to talk to him. Edward hadn't made much sense last night. He was clearly upset by whatever happened. And I felt protective of him; I didn't want to see him unhappy. But, at the same time, it was family business. And I wasn't exactly family. I didn't know what to do.

Worked sucked as usual. This one bitch kept changing her order after I had already told the cooks what she wanted and the she whined when everything wasn't separated by two inches of space. But I didn't complain once. I did everything she asked with a smile on my face and then that…lovely lady had the nerve to leave a fifty cent tip for her twenty dollar order.

And then my favorite little pixie and her…bodyguard, lover, cowboy, whatever, came in to visit me. Of course, she couldn't just get to the point. She had to quote "The Hollow Men" and confuse me.

"We are the hollow men. We are the stuffed men, leaning together, headpiece filled with straw. Alas! Our dried voices when we whisper together are quiet and meaningless as wind in dry grass. Or rats' feet over broken glass in our dry cellar."

I sighed and tapped my pen against the table. "So, you and Edward both like T.S. Eliot?"

"He gave a book of his complete works for my birthday last year," she said cheerfully. It was weird to be cheerful after quoting those lines, but I had learned by now not to question Alice.

"That's great. Why are you here? And don't tell me that it's for the onion rings," I said dryly. I wasn't in the mood for more of her mumbo jumbo. I kind of just wanted one day without a psychic telling me what to do or say or, heaven forbid, wear.

"Jasper does love onion rings, but that's not why we are here," she said, her chipper mood not wavering.

"Didn't figure that it was."

She reached out and took my pin so that I couldn't continue my drumming. "You should talk to Emmett."

"Alice, it's not my place." She frowned.

"I'm not asking you to judge or condemn his actions. But I think that you should listen to what he has to say. This affected Edward a lot, it still does, and it would be good for you to know what happened."

"Fine," I said curtly. I knew I was going to have to do it anyway. There was no point in arguing.

Alice handed me back my pen, which I took and dropped it into the pocket of my little green apron. "He should be there when you get back from work. And pancake syrup is like his truth serum. Just so you know."

"Okay," I said. "Now, do you want onion rings or not?"

"Yes," Jasper blurted out excitedly before Alice could say no.

The walk home from work set my stomach twisting into knots. The pixie hadn't been wrong yet, at least as far as I could tell, so that meant that Emmett would be at the building. And that I should talk to him. I was curious, nosy, and I did want to know what happened to Edward's nephew, but I wasn't sure how any of them would react to my prying. Rosalie didn't like me, but she was okay since I paid rent and that was really all she wanted. But Emmett and I were kind of friends and I didn't want to wreck that.

Emmett and I approached the door of the building from different direction and met at the same time. He smiled happily at me. "Hey, squirt, how was your date last night?"

I gulped, stepping from the warm sunlight into the cold building. "It is better discussed over pancakes. Do you want to come with me? I'm going to that place down the street in twenty minutes."

"You had me at 'pancakes,' Bella Bear. Let me just change out of this awful suit," he said as he loosened the designer tie from his designer suit. I was sure Rosalie had picked it out for him. I was sure she picked out most of his current clothes, because every time that she wasn't around he was wearing black athletic shorts and green, wrinkled Dartmouth shirts. But when she was present, they were mysteriously absent and replaced with khakis and polo shirts.

He was wearing his Dartmouth attire when we met in the living room fifteen minutes later, both of us early and anxious but for different reasons. He grabbed my hand and swung it back and forth as he hopped and skipped to the restaurant. It reminded me of a little kid on his way to a toy store. I, however, felt like I was going to puke. The last thing I wanted was to fuck things up even more between them.

It barely registered that we were sitting in a booth until Emmett spoke again. "What's wrong, pinball wizard? You look like you are about to puke all over the table."

I looked up and saw nothing but concern in his eyes. Fuck. I let out a deep breath, my fingers tapping against the orange Formica table. "Edward told me something last night."

He lifted his eyebrows. "You're going to have to be a little more specific, rainbow bright. Edward knows a lot of shit. I can't even begin to guess what he might have said."

I couldn't stop the tapping. It was a nervous habit. But I'm sure that Em thought that I was trying to interrogate him and that I had brushed on my technique from rerun _NYPD Blue_ episodes. "It was about you. And Rosalie." I took a quick breath. "And your son."

He sat up straighter and placed his folded hands of the tabletop. I saw him swallow. "He told you about Ethan?"

I bit my bottom lip. "Is that his name? Edward didn't tell me a name."

"What exactly did he tell you?" he asked after the waitress came to get our drink order.

I shrugged. "It was more…We were talking about our families and he was trying to explain that you guys weren't that close anymore. I asked the reason. And he said that I should ask you where his nephew is."

Emmett sighed loudly and put his elbows on the table, mussing up his hair in annoyance. "It's not like it was an easy decision. He's…Edward and I went through a lot in just a short amount of time." He paused and tried to regroup his thoughts. "I'm two years older than him. The summer that he went backpacking through Europe after his high school graduation was the summer before my junior year. It was the summer that we found out the Rosalie was pregnant. And it was the summer our parents were in a car wreck on the way to pick up Edward from the airport."

I immediately took of a sip of my water as the gray-haired waitress brought it. He paused the story to order blueberry pancakes and bacon. I ordered French toast. As soon as the old betty was gone, he started it up again.

"Edward, as you may have noticed, didn't handle either of those two events very well. He blamed himself for our parent's accident. And he blames me for the decision with Ethan. It's fine; I shoulder the blame if that's what he needs. He and Rosalie have never been friendly and it just got worse after he ran off to Chicago." He took two big gulps of his Dr. Pepper and sighed again.

"What happened to Ethan?" The name sounded weird when spoken in my voice.

"Rosalie and I decided that the best thing that we could do for him, because we were both so young and still in college was to give him up for adoption. We found an amazing family for him. And we get pictures and letters every six months. He's three now." He frowned when he said the last sentence. "Edward, he thought that we were ripping apart his family. It was just me and him and Rose for a month or so after the funeral. And when we found out that we weren't keeping Ethan, that's when he ran. He wasn't there for the birth, which pissed Rosalie off. I had to hire someone to find him for me."

I reached across the table and put my hand on top of Emmett's. He smiled slightly at me. "Do you have a picture with you?"

He nodded and pulled out his wallet. His fingers flipped through the chaos and settled on a picture. "This is the most recent one."

I took the wallet from him and stared at the picture before me. The smiling toddler had big blue eyes, curly brown hair, and the widest grin I had ever seen. He looked just like Emmett. There was no denying that the kid was his. "He's adorable."

He swallowed hard. "Yeah." I took another sip of my water, needing something to soothe my throat. I could understand Emmett's side. And I could understand Edward's. "So what else did you and Edward talk about last night?"

I could tell that we were done talking about Ethan.

"We talked about what I do that turns him on. It was pretty enlightening." He laughed.

"Are you going to tease him with it?"

"Already have," I replied, smiling at him. He held his hand up for a high five. I returned the gesture and he smacked my hand.

"Good girl. I knew that I liked you. What else happened?"

"I don't know." I shrugged. "Not much, I guess."

"Did you kiss him?" My blush betrayed me. "You did, didn't you? How was it? Does Edward even know how to kiss?"

I scoffed. "Yes, he knows how to kiss."

He smiled cheekily. "So you have been kissing him. And you like him?"

"Yes, Emmett. I like him." I smiled weakly. It was weird to be discussing this with him. Though, I suppose that it was my fault. "He's a good man."

"The whole 'emo' thing doesn't put you off."

I sat really still and looked down at the table. I didn't know how much Emmett knew. Or how much Emmett thought that I knew. "What do you mean?"

"I love my brother. And he's gotten better recently. But I know that he struggles with depression. I keep asking him to get help, but he's so damn stubborn."

I didn't know what I could say, what I should say. What Edward had told me had been in confidence and I wasn't going to betray that. It was probably at Emmett's insistence that he finally decided to go to a shrink. I would have to ask him about that later.

"I like Edward. There are no 'buts' or 'howevers' of exceptions. I like him. All of him."


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Eh. I'm not really happy with this chapter. But there's not much I can do about it. And I know that this is the wrong day. I suck at schedules. And, seriously, tell me if this chapter sucks.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, The Perks of Being a Wallflower, or Calvinism.

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I knew that I was already acting like a clingy girlfriend, especially since I wasn't even his girlfriend. We had been on one date. Yes, it was an amazing and heart-breaking first date, but I hadn't really expected anything less from Edward. And now I was hanging around outside of his door waiting for him to get back from his gallery so that I could kiss him and then go to bed, preferably with him.

I drummed my hands on the flat carpet as I sat with my legs crossed, leaning against the wall. It was fifteen minutes after twelve. Footsteps on the stairs made me perk up instantly. But it didn't last long. It was just Alec. He was an okay enough guy, but he wasn't exactly the one I wanted. Alec smiled at me.

"Hey, Bella, are you joining us tonight?" I stood up slowly and stretched out my tired muscles.

"Joining who for what?"

"No, she's not," Edward said from the stairs.

"Oh," Alec replied, raising his eyebrows to me. From how he was standing, Edward couldn't see his face.

I glanced up at Edward. He looked really stressed out. His forehead was wrinkled and the corners of his mouth were turned down. It made me wish that I knew how to relax him. It also made me wonder what he and Alec were doing and why I wasn't invited to the shindig.

He walked over to me and kissed my forehead—not exactly the greeting I was hoping for. And, without a word to me, he turned to Alec. "Give me five minutes."

I sarcastically wondered if I got all five minutes of his time or if I had to share it with anyone else.

"Your room or mine?" Alec asked, glancing at me. He must have noticed my unpleasant disposition, but Edward didn't. Alec frowned.

"Mine," Edward replied. "You know how much your sister hates the smell."

Pot. Weed. Cannabis. Mary Jane. That had to be it. They were pot-smoking buddies. And I wasn't invited to the party. Was it because Edward didn't want me there? Or was it something that only he and Alec did, like how Jake and I used to ride motorcycles?

"Are you sure that you don't want to come, Bella?" Alec asked again. I opened my mouth to say that I would love to join them, but Edward answered for me.

"She doesn't smoke pot."

I turned to him and folded my arms over my chest. "How do you know? It's not like we've discussed our drug habits. And, for your information, he asked me. I'm fully capable of answering a question for myself."

He held his hands up as if he was trying to calm a small child. It pissed me off. He pissed me off. Especially when he was like this. They were all like this—treating me like I was innocent, naïve, a five-year-old who needs to be guided so that they don't make bad choices.

"Bella, you don't smoke marijuana. And we don't have to have a two-hour discussion for me to know that. You just don't, so I don't understand why you are flipping out about this."

Shit, I was so mad at him. And not the good kind of mad where I couldn't decide whether I wanted to do inappropriate things with him while others watched or whether I wanted to strangle him. I just wanted to strangle him.

"It's not about the fucking marijuana, Edward. Get as high as a fucking kite. I don't care." Alec glanced back and forth between us, like he was looking for an appropriate time to bail.

"Then, what is your fucking problem?"

"Besides the fact that I stayed up to see you and apparently I'm worth five whole minutes?" I asked, scowling. I should have just gone to bed. I could have been dreaming about happy things and avoided this argument. Tears were starting to form in my eyes from frustration, but I swallowed hard and forced them away. "And for someone who insists that modern women are better, you certainly have antiquated views on how to get one. I don't need you telling me what I can and can't do. I'm a grown woman. Fuck, I'm older than you are. If I want to smoke pot, I will. You have no say over my actions. You don't get a say in my life just like I don't have a say in yours."

I stomped off down the stairs not waiting for his misogynic and offensive reply. Shit, I couldn't believe that I had wasted time or energy on him. He was like two different people. Last night and this morning he was sweet and nice. And then he turned back into a fucking douche bag.

Alice yelled my name as I passed her door, but I just kept walking.

"I'm really not in the mood to hear how I'm fucking everything up right now. I get it. I'm the problem. I'll leave all you people to go back to your crazy-ass lives. I'm over it."

I trudged down the rest of the steps and went straight to the liquor cabinet. This was a night for hard liquor. I skipped the vodka, knowing that we didn't agree, and went straight for the Jameson, drinking it straight from the bottle. Jane walked in the front door about half-way through my fourth gulp.

She smoothed her light-brown hair and sighed. "Seriously, I don't really care, but you might kill yourself if you don't slow down. And then the cops will show up and start asking questions like they did with Tori."

"Tori's dead?" I asked, struggling to keep up with this conversation. The fact that she was talking to me at all was just plain bizarre.

"No," Jane exclaimed. "Victoria is in prison. But you might end up dead and attract cops like that whore."

I cocked my eyebrow. Or I tried to. I think it came out making me look like a Picasso. "Isn't that like the pot calling the kettle black?"

Jane rolled her dark eyes. "I'm not a whore. I'm an escort. Tori was a coke whore. And her habit got her arrested. Just like yours is going to get you a trip to the ER to get your stomach pumped."

"Fuck off, prostitute. I've had a shitty five minutes. Well, whole fucking day really. Week. No, it's been a month since I moved in. A shitty month." She laughed and took the bottle from me, taking a swig.

"What happened?" She hopped up onto the dining room table and put her feet in a chair. I sat beside her and stole the bottle back.

"Edward's being an intolerable ass." Jane took the bottle and put it between her legs. That was the last place I was going to go. And I think she knew that.

"Is he up there smoking with my brother now?" I shrugged.

"Probably. That was the plan before I yelled at him," I replied, sliding off the table and opening the liquor cabinet in search of something else. Jane was right behind me. She put the Jameson back in and closed the doors, standing between me and it. Fucking bitch.

"Edward gets like that sometimes when he's had a bad day and needs a hit. It's not his fault."

I sighed dramatically and threw my arms up in the air. "There is so much wrong with what you said. If you treat him like his bad behavior is okay, if you indulge it, then he's just…he'll keep doing it. And it's not okay to be a jackass."

Jane laughed at me again. But I think that it was because I kind of fell off balance when I began flailing my arms around. She caught me.

"Bella, you've just had like three shots worth in two minutes. And you don't exactly handle your liquor very well."

I brushed my hair out of my face. And then again when it fell immediately back. "So…so, what are you saying? I don't understand. Are you even talking in English now?"

She sat me in a chair. "Stay." A few seconds later she came back with a big glass of water. "Drink it all."

"You're not my boss, whore. I don't know why _everyone_ is trying to be my boss. Maybe I want to smoke fucking pot. And maybe I don't want to drink water. And maybe I hate fucking high heels." I think that I started to yell, because she covered my mouth with her little whore hand. I swiped the glass of water from her hand, but it ended up in my waist. "Fuck," I exclaimed.

"Do you always cuss like this or only when you are drunk off your ass?" she asked.

"Actually," I said, drawing the word out much longer than necessary. "I usually only cuss when I'm really pissed off. Edward likes it when I cuss. But he can go fuck himself."

Jane put my arm around her shoulder and tried to help me stand up, but it didn't work to well. She was taller than me, but tinier. And not strong at all. "Come on, Bella, work with me. Let's get you changed out of your wet clothes."

I sighed. "Fine, but because I don't like being wet. It's not for you."

She nodded. "I know." I tried my hardest to keep a decent grip on her, but my arms just weren't listening. And neither were my legs. My entire body was on rebellion. It took millennia just to get my body up the stupid stairs.

We walked—stumbled—past Potward's bedroom. The door was open. And he just had to comment.

"Since when are you two friends?"

"Since Jane said that she would help me become an escort. The pay is good. And she said that lots of guys would do anything to fuck me," I replied.

"Not while you're wasted," he said.

"I'm not wasted. But even if I was, I still wouldn't sleep with you," I yelled out as Jane closed my bedroom door.

"Change into pajamas," she ordered. "And for the love of Burberry please stay here until I get back."

I pulled off my wet clothes and changed into my pair of pink short shorts and a tank top to sleep in. And then I crawled into bed. I just wanted this day to be over with. I pulled the blanket over my head and let the stupid tears fall.

It was just a few minutes later when I heard my door open. I didn't remember if I locked it or not. Regardless, I knew that there were only two people who came in without knocking. And I'm pretty sure that I had never yelled at the pixie before so she would probably give me time.

"Are you still pissed at me?" he asked.

"Do you remember all that yelling and fighting that we did? That was, like, twenty minutes ago. So, yeah, I'm still pissed at you," I told him. Beneath the blanket, I wiped my tears away. "Do you even know why I'm upset?"

"Because I'm a misogynic pothead?" he tried.

"Because seeing you tonight was important to me. I had a shitty day and I wanted to kiss you and have you tell me that the world sucks. And you were going to give me five fucking minutes of your time, like that's all I'm worth to you." I swallowed and pulled the blanket off my head, even though I still really wanted to hide. He was standing there looking sad with a glass of water and a banana. He always brought me bananas when I had too much to drink. If we ever stopped fighting, I'd have to ask him about that. He sat his items on the table by my bed and sat down. I didn't recall asking him to stay.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way," he said quietly. "I know that you usually go to bed earlier than I do. And I knew that you stayed up just for me. I was sure you were tired and I didn't want to monopolize your time."

"Fuck, Edward." I sighed and he brushed hair from out of my face. "So much shit happened today. I'm just sick of it all. I remember when life used to be easy."

"When was that?" he asked, still playing with my hair. I tried my best to ignore how much I was enjoying it and focus on being upset with him.

I shrugged. "Maybe life was never easy."

"It's fucking hot in here," Edward commented randomly.

"Not all of us can have a nice turbo, oscillating, autobot fan like you." He smiled. Smiled. And kissed my forehead. It was still not what I wanted.

"One second." And he dashed from the room.

I was still mad, still fucking frustrated with him and Alice and the chaos that had become my life. But it was a lot harder for me to stay pissed when he was sitting with me and using his sweet Edward voice. More tears started falling, but I wiped them away quickly.

He came back a minute later, wearing only his stupid black shorts and his glasses. And he was carrying his hundred dollar fan. He plugged the cord into the outlet by my door and turned it to whatever setting made him all giddy inside. Then, he crawled up the bed and placed himself beside me.

"Are you staying?" I asked.

"Do you not want me to stay?" he asked. Edward frowned at that. And he looked so fucking pathetic and heart-broken. And I couldn't say no. I shrugged. "Tell me about your shitty day."

"You don't want to hear about my shitty day," I told him. He didn't. I wouldn't have wanted to hear about it had I been in his place.

"No, I do. Tell me."

"Fine," I said with a sigh. "But, first, can you kiss me? For real. Because all of this kiss on the forehead stuff is about to drive me insane."

"Are we still fighting?" he asked.

"You won't kiss me if we're still fighting?" He shook his head. "Why?"

He turned to his side and propped himself up on his elbow. "I'm just not going to. Are we still fighting?"

"I'm still pissed. And frustrated. And confused. But, to be fair, I was all of those things before you got here. And you were just the pilot light that started the fire." His hand came back to my face and brushed the hair away.

"I missed you today. Is that dumb? I couldn't focus on anything the whole day." Edward twirled a strand of my hair around his finger. "Tell me about your day."

I sighed loudly. "Work sucked. And the little pixie gave me another assignment. I'm getting tired of her little assignments."

"Why?" He asked it without any emotion or inflection.

"Because I don't feel like I'm in control of my own life anymore. I want to make stupid mistakes." He smiled.

"Speaking of stupid mistakes," Edward said and pointed to the water and banana. "If you want, you can eat those and it should help you a bit. But it's your decision."

"See, that," I said, grabbing the water glass and taking a few sips. "I want to be able to make decisions. I've read Calvinist doctrine and it scares the piss out of me. I don't want to think that I don't have any control over my future, that all has been predestined for me. I want to think that I had some say in the matter. But I don't anymore." I took a few more big gulps of water.

Edward's eyes lit up. And his fingers fidgeted a bit. "I'm trying to decide which rabbit hole I want to go down—your assignment from Alice or the fact that you studied Calvinism." He smiled. "Alice first."

I looked down and started unpeeling the banana. "I talked to Emmett today. About Ethan."

"Oh," he replied, his voice going back to expressionless.

"Yeah."

"And then we fought." I nodded. "We fought about control and you making your own choices, which were the things you've been stressing about all day. I'm a controlling dipshit."

"No," I replied. "I shouldn't have blown up at you. I should have been able to keep my emotions in check. I'm sorry. I'll explain next time instead of yelling."

He smiled at me. "Are we still fighting?"

I shook my head. "I'm not." I was still upset, but not at him.

Edward shifted his body so that he was hovering over me. I was lying down, my body trapped by his arms. Whether unconsciously or purposely, his tongue flicked out and licked his bottom lip. I was dying waiting for a kiss from him.

I reached my hands up and grabbed his face. I pulled his down and leaned up at the same time. His lips finally touched mine. And it felt right. It felt perfect, like order in the midst of all the chaos. He smiled as he pulled his lips from mine and started to kiss along my jaw.

Edward's hands trailed up my sides and I couldn't contain the laughter as he found my ticklish spot. As soon as the giggles erupted from my mouth, he pulled away and looked at me in disbelief. He looked so stunned.

"You're ticklish?"

I started shaking my head quickly. This happened every single time someone found out that I was ticklish. They ask the question. And it doesn't matter what you say, they plan on touching you. Denying never stopped it, but I just couldn't make myself admit it.

Edward straddled me legs—a smart move on his part so that I didn't accidently kick him. His eyes never left mine as his fingers traced up and down my sides. And then he found it again. And my entire body started thrashing around the bed. There was also squealing.

I had hoped to keep the ticklish thing him from him as long as possible. Fail. But I couldn't be too mad, because he looked so pleased with himself.

"Please," I squeaked. "No more. I surrender."

"What do you surrender?" he asked.

What did I surrender? Stupid, perverted brain couldn't think of anything that didn't sound completely dirty. "I surrender myself. To you."

He was momentarily stunned by my words and it gave me enough of an edge to get out from under him.

"I'll be right back," I said dashing off to the bathroom. Drinking a full glass of water and then being tickled was not good for my bladder.

I washed my hands and looked at myself in the mirror, wondering what he saw. Plain brown eyes. Plain brown hair. Pale, pasty skin that refused to tan even in the Chicago sun.

I walked back into my bedroom quietly. And he was still there—I only doubted slightly that he wouldn't be. He was sprawled out on my bed, apparently reading _The Perks of Being a Wallflower_ that I had left on my bedside table.

"Is this good?" he asked when I lay back down on the bed.

I nodded. "It's very good. Have you never read it?" He shook his head. "You can borrow it if you want."

"Thanks," he said, putting the book on the table and folding his glasses. I watched him curiously and he just shrugged when he noticed my interest. "I'm staying here tonight."


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: A little short, but a very important chapter, development-wise. I would love to hear your opinions on the chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, the Lincoln Park Zoo in Chicago, or T.S. Eliot.

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_I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope_

I traced the tattoo on his chest over and over with my finger, reading it each time and each time wondering why he chose this line. Surely he knew a happier line. But then again, it wouldn't have made sense to me to see some cookie-cutter, romantic-comedy line tattooed on his chest.

"What are you thinking?" Edward asked, rubbing his eyes with one hand while reaching for his glasses from the table beside my bed with the other.

"Hmm?" I asked, looking up at him. I didn't know when he had woken up.

The light streamed in through my window and shined down on us. His expensive and ridiculously amazing fan kept us cool despite the heat from the sun. When I woke up, Edward had looked like he was uncomfortable. It could have been that he wasn't used to my bed. Or maybe it was that I was sprawled out and he had a tiny corner even though he was a larger person than I was. I had shifted my body to give him more and he eventually conformed into the space I had given him.

I couldn't go back to sleep, so I spent the time staring at him.

Edward put on his glasses and stared at me. "Tell me what you are thinking. You've been running your finger along my tattoo for fifteen minutes. And it's driving me crazy."

"Why did you choose this line? T.S. Eliot. _Four Quartets._ 'East Coker.' It has to have some significance. You don't seem like the kind of person who would randomly tattoo something on his body."

He pulled me closer to him, my face in his chest. This way I couldn't see his face. I'd noticed that he had a difficult time looking at me when he was talking about something personal.

"My dad is English, was English. Whatever. He came to America to go to medical school at Johns Hopkins. And when we were growing up, he always read to me from this tattered copy of T.S. Eliot's poems that he had gotten from his father. The book fell apart into eight different sections because we read it so much. So, when I went to Europe for the summer, I stopped at this little bookstore in Merton and I found the exact same copy. I was going to give it to him. _Four Quartets_ was the poem I was reading when I got the phone call from Emmett at the airport. They were two hours late picking me up and I couldn't get an answer on their cell phones."

I traced the tattoo once more with my finger.

_I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope_

He was quiet for a few minutes, and I couldn't bring myself to interrupt the silence.

"We need to have an Edward and Bella day," he finally said.

"That sounds nice," I said. "But I have work."

"Skip it," he said as his fingers combed through my tangled waves. I loved when he played with my hair.

"I'll lose my job. Plus, you don't want to spend a whole day with me. I'll annoy you after the first five minutes."

"That's probably true." I scoffed and he laughed. "But I'm willing to risk it if you are."

I sat up and turned to look at him. "Edward, I need a job to pay rent and keep your sister-in-law off my ass."

"They aren't married yet. Please do not refer to her as that," he said, his voice not nearly as playful as before. "Bella, you work six days a week. You need a break."

"My day off was just a few days ago." He rolled his eyes at me.

"We can do whatever you want today."

I lifted my eyebrows. "All day? Whatever I want?"

Edward smiled and looked down. "I feel like I'm going to regret this, but yes. Anything you want."

I leaned closer and kissed his cheek. "I'm so excited. I need to call into work. And eat breakfast. And get dressed. You need to get dressed. Come on, sleepy head. Rise and shine."

"Yeah, already regret this," he said dryly.

***

"Why are we here again?" Edward asked for the seventh time, refusing to go in with me.

He hadn't seemed thrilled when I told him where I wanted to go first, but he had promised and helped me navigate the L. But I couldn't get him to come any closer. He crossed his arms over his chest and pouted out his bottom lip. He looked like a little kid, except most little kids didn't complain about going to the zoo.

I watched as he fiddled with the bottom button of his black and gray plaid shirt. Personally, I wouldn't have minded if he took the damn shirt off if it meant that he would go into the zoo. But there were a bunch of desperate mothers with their screaming kids. And I didn't want any of them eye-groping my Edward. I walked closer to him and redid his button for him.

"You look miserable. Come on, we'll find something else to do," I tried to tug him away, but his feet stayed firmly in place.

"No, this is what you want to do. Give me a second." He took a deep breath.

"Why do you hate the zoo? Is it because Rosalie calls you Space Monkey?" Edward frowned. Not a good idea to remind him of the nickname he hates. Smooth move, Bella.

"No. I like monkeys. It's…you'll laugh. I don't want to tell you." He looked down and his cheeks were blushing slightly. It was the most fucking adorable thing ever.

"No. I won't. I promise."

"What happens if you do?" he asked.

"You can choose what we do next." Edward held out his hand to solidify the deal and I shook it.

He laughed once, his cheeks still light pink. "I read this short story a couple of years ago about a vampire who chooses his victims based on the people he sees at a zoo." I pressed my lips together to keep from giggling. He was afraid that there will be vampires at the zoo? I had to read this story. "I also can't eat snow cones anymore, because the vampire in the story ate them. Stop laughing, Bella."

The laughter fell out. "I'm sorry. I really am." He looked so embarrassed. I stood up on my tiptoes and kissed his lips quickly. "I just want to see the lions and then we can go and do whatever you want."

"Okay," he said reluctantly. I put his arm around my shoulders and walked through the front gate. "But you have to protect me."

I smiled. "And not just from creatures of the night. There are also horny soccer moms to worry about."

He laughed. "I could handle being some cougar's plaything."

"No. I'm the only one that is going to be playing with you. I mean, unless you prefer playing with yourself."

"I want to play with you. When are we going to play?" I shrugged.

"Let's see how the day goes."

We were wrapped in our own world. I barely noticed the hordes of school children running around. Or the ladies power-walking and pushing strollers that were bigger than ice cream carts. I felt like the whole world was just background noise. And it was really just me and him.

He kept his arm around me while I babbled about lions and tigers and hippopotamuses and giraffes. He took it all in stride, not running away because I was prattling about the pros and cons of my favorite zoo animals. Every once in a while, I would glance over at him and he'd be staring back, focusing as if what I said was life and death rather than mindless nonsense. And I felt myself becoming even more besotted.

He took me to see the lions. And then we went to the monkey house or primate sanctuary or whatever its proper name was. He even bought me a grape snow cone, but refused to take a bite of it, so I ate it all myself and kissed him with stained lips.

And then he took me into a little café in the zoo and we had a small lunch. Everything seemed so light, playful. I couldn't bring myself to care about the fact that skipping work was likely to get me fired. Or that school started soon and I was going to be swamped. I didn't even think about how Edward was slowly winning over my heart. I didn't think about tomorrow or yesterday or five minutes from now. I focused on us being together right then, because I didn't know what tomorrow would bring.

"I'm ready to go after this to wherever you want to take me," I said. Edward stared at me blankly for a few seconds before a smile broke out on his face. "What?"

"Nothing," he said, ruffling his hair. "I just enjoy your phrasing."

"Where are we going to go?" I asked.

Edward leaned back in his chair. "I have a loft a few miles away."

I played with the ends of my hair, trying to process what he was saying. "You live at the building. You sometimes sleep at your gallery. And you have a loft?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"Why do all of you rich brats even live at the building? None of you need to. You can all afford three places to live." Alec and Jane made tons of money a night—I was definitely going into the wrong career. And Emmett and Rosalie always seemed to have a haze of money hovering around them. "I knew your brother was, but I guess I didn't consider you because of the Bohemian artist persona."

He reached across the table and put his hand over my mouth. He didn't seem to be mad. But he did look perturbed.

"I moved out of the building when Em and Rose bought it. It was only me and Alice, so I found us a loft; I wasn't going to leave her there with them. But Alice insisted that we stay, that good things would happen if we stayed. I didn't believe her, so I kept paying for the loft on the off chance that I'd ever need to leave again. I usually only go there for a week in July and around Christmas."

July, probably around the time his parents died. And I bet they had extravagant Christmases. A massive, freshly cut tree. Lights. Mistletoe. Bing Crosby playing in the background. I can just imagine a perfect, little family opening presents and drinking cider. He would never have that again—Christmas with his parents.

And he wanted to invite me into the place that he took refuge when he was hurting. I put my hand on top of one of his that was fidgeting on the table.

"I would love to see the loft."

Our phones both started ringing at the same time.

Edward laughed. "Someone doesn't want you to see the loft." He looked at his phone. "Alice."

I looked down at mine, expecting Jasper or Emmett or whoever she had pulled in on this prank or joke.

Sue. My step-mom. My dad's new wife.

Why was she calling? If it was important, why wasn't my dad calling? I took a shaky breath and answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Bella," she said softly and I felt tears forming already. Edward was talking to Alice and glancing worriedly at me.

"Is he okay?" I didn't recognize my voice. I didn't sound like me. I knew. I didn't know how, but I knew.

"Charlie had a heart attack. The ambulance just left to take him to the hospital."

I took a breath and let it out. "Which hospital?"

The second I asked the question, Edward took my hand and we started walking, presumably for the front gates. He was still talking to Alice and I would hear and occasional "okay" and "yeah" and a few swear words that shouldn't be said anywhere in the vicinity of small children and especially not at the fucking zoo.

I don't remember much else of what Sue said.

I remember Edward pushing me into a cab. And him pulling me into his lap. At some point I must have started crying because I looked up and his shirt was damp with tears. And he wasn't crying. He rubbed soothingly along my back.

But everything felt like auto-pilot again. I wasn't here. My body was moving around— getting in and out of the cab, walking into the building, hugging people, getting back into a cab, and then on a plane. I didn't ask about how my bag got packed or the plane tickets bought.

It wasn't until I was sixteen that I met my dad. That was just six years ago, almost seven. But in those few years, I had grown closer to my dad then I had ever been with my mom. He welcomed me into his life without question or hesitation. He even let me move in with him and finish up high school in the town where he was chief of police.

Charlie had introduced me to Jacob. And we had become friends instantly. I think that Charlie always hoped that Jacob and I would get together, but it never happened. I only saw Jake as a friend, even though I suspected that he saw me differently for a few years. But then he started dating Leah and they were going to get married when he came back from Afghanistan.

The plane ride was killing me. I felt trapped and helpless. There was nothing I could do to get me there faster.

"What if…What if he…"

Edward put his arm around me and I leaned into his side. His lips kissed the top of my head. He didn't say anything. There was nothing that could fix this.

_I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope._


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: This is my first attempt in this story to write from Edward's perspective. I hope that it isn't disappointing. There are a bunch of cute little things that he does that make me love him even more. And I hope you all are falling in love with him too.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.

* * *

For the past few years, I had been the kind of person who couldn't really find a balance in life. My emotions, goals, friends had all been polar opposites of one another. They say—those great men who claim things—that you can't really know yourself until you experience a tragedy. Well, I say that's shit. Because, now, after the fact, I don't really feel like I have a grip on who I am. Not anymore.

The first eighteen years, I knew exactly who I was. I was Edward Cullen. The son of Carlisle and Esme. The younger brother of Emmett. I was class president. And I had more friends and acquaintances than I could count. I was going to be a world-famous painter as great as da Vinci and as unpredictable as Dali. And my parents had always supported that dream—sent me to camps and museums and apprenticeships. And then to backpack through Europe and see the art and the land that served as inspiration.

My therapist, shrink, psychiatrist says that I can't let the accident define me. I think she's an idiot if she really means to tell me that the death of my parents shouldn't affect me so much. I'd never really done teenage angst or rebellion. My parents knew me better than my best friends. They were the ones I confided in. And then they were just gone. Forever. How was I supposed to avoid being affected? Every aspect of my life was affected.

I was supposed to go to The Art Institute in Chicago for college. But I couldn't. That was the plan I had made with my parents. And it didn't seem right to follow through on it without them. But I ran to Chicago anyway. I couldn't stay with Emmett like he was suggesting. He wanted me to watch my nephew grow in Rosalie's belly and then smile when they gave him away. I refused to go to the hospital. I didn't want to see him. Because he wasn't really family. They were making sure of that. And because I refused to watch another member of my family taken from me, Rosalie refused to show me the pictures of Ethan that she got twice a year.

Everything that I had in my life now—the gallery, the building, the makeshift family that I had acquired—was all because someone's tire blew out and he lost control of the vehicle, swerving into on-coming traffic. I could even be mad at the guy, because his kids lost their father too. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. I knew my parents would die eventually, that I would most likely outlive them, but I had hoped that it would be around their one hundredth birthday.

Every aspect of my life, I could relate back to them. They would have been so excited when I bought the rundown gallery and repaired it myself. They would have taken me out for drinks when I sold my first painting. My dad would have lectured me about the harms of marijuana. My mom would have loved Bella. They both would have.

I looked over at the girl who was twisted uncomfortably in the hospital chair and trying to sleep. She refused to go to her dad's house or a hotel and sleep for a couple of hours, but I had expected her stubbornness. And so had Alice.

The phone call from Alice scared me almost as much as Bella's face when she answered the phone. Alice said that her dad had a heart attack and that she needed to get on a plane. She said that she'd pack the bags. I wasn't sure if Alice planned on me going or not, but I already had it in my mind that I couldn't leave her. I was alone when I got the call about my parents. I didn't even see Emmett for another hour and half after the call. I cried alone in the cab when we got stuck in traffic on the way to the funeral home to make arrangements. There was no way in hell that I was leaving Bella alone to deal with this all by herself.

Even though it was after four AM, I couldn't sleep. I kept trying to read Bella's copy of _The Perks of Being a Wallflower_, but I couldn't shut my mind off and focus. My eyes were drawn to her, the anxiety and anguish that plagued her even in her sleep. I found myself praying that her dad would be okay. It would destroy her if he wasn't. And, honestly, I was pretty sure that watching someone else lose a parent would destroy me all over again.

Bella stirred in her sleep, rolling around in her chair. She groaned loudly and her eyes flickered open, immediately meeting mine. Then they glanced around the room and agony marred her face as she realized where we were. She sniffled and I dropped the book on the chair next to me, holding out my arms for her.

"Come here." Bella untangled herself from the chair and walked over to me, her blanket thrown over her shoulder.

She sat sideways in my lap, resting her head against my shoulder. I spread the blanket over her. And then I wrapped my arms around her.

"Thank you," she said quietly, her words felt like smoke after a candle was extinguished, just a reminder of how bright the flame had once been.

"For what?" I asked.

"For being here when you don't really need to be." I wanted to argue this point, but kept my mouth shut. Now wasn't the time. "For getting me on a plane when I could barely function. For holding me when I keep crying. It can't be easy for you to be at a hospital."

"I never went to the hospital when my parents died," I said. I found myself telling this girl all of my secrets. And I wasn't sure why—why I trusted her so implicitly and why she hadn't run away scared yet. "My dad was a doctor. Hospitals are familiar to me. Other people freak out, but I find them oddly comforting."

"That's weird," she said with an almost-laugh. "But you're weird, so it kind of fits."

"Um, thanks," I replied, not really sure if it was a compliment.

Bella tilted her head off of my shoulder and kissed my cheek. Her lips felt so soft against my skin. "I like you and your weirdness. I wouldn't want you any other way."

She liked me. Yes, she had kissed me. And we had slept in the same bed a few times. And we had gone on a couple dates. But there was something about the words that I had ached to hear. She hadn't really ever said them. She had said that she could really like me. But that wasn't the same thing.

"Do you need anything? Coffee? Food? Water? Kleenex?"

Bella sighed into my shoulder. "I need you to stay right here with me. Tell me stories about you or something to keep my mind off of…"

"We always talk about me." It was true. She knew so much. And I felt like I knew so little about her.

"I like hearing about your life."

I gave in. As if I was really going to deprive her of anything she wanted. "What do you want to know?"

"Girlfriends?"

Really? I wasn't sure that this was a good idea. Me and Bella and a conversation about my exes. Definitely not a smart move.

"I had a few in high school—mostly girls that I had been friends with for a long time. Only one of them was serious. But we didn't work; it didn't make sense. We wanted such different things." Irina wanted to move to California and be an actress. I had wanted to move to Prague after college and be a vagabond.

Bella shifted slightly on my lap. "What about after high school?" I sighed quietly, but I knew she would still hear it and feel it. We were too close for her to not.

"No girlfriends. Some dating, but no one worth mentioning." The few girls that I had been out with were more to satisfy an urge than find the right person. We both knew what we were getting into. And sometimes my hand just wasn't good enough.

"What about me?" she asked quietly. "Am I worth mentioning?"

I smiled. She was really asking this question. Did she think that I flew halfway across the country for someone that I wasn't emotionally invested in?

"I don't shut up about you. It's beginning to annoy people," I replied. And she laughed a few times, before stopping completely.

"It feels wrong to laugh."

"No, Bella," I said and then swallowed. "Don't suppress your emotions, whatever they are—happiness, sadness, anger. You can't. It will kill you to keep it all in. I know."

Her fingers brushed some hair that had fallen in front of my eyes. "Are you okay?"

I took a breath. What was I supposed to tell her? Was I okay? Being in the hospital with her was nothing like when my parents died. It was a completely different situation. But, at the same time, it hurt again. I hurt again. After the funeral, I suppressed everything. I was numb day in and day out for a year. Then everything that I had been hiding from finally caught up with me. And it was too much. I didn't know how to deal with it. I dug myself into an abyss and stayed hidden there for a long time.

"I'm okay," I said. "Are you okay?"

She shook her head. "Not really. I mean, they say he'll probably be fine or whatever. But I could have lost him. I still could lose him." She wiped her eyes. "I'm afraid to go to sleep, because I don't know what the world will look like when I wake up."

"I'll be here when you wake up," I promised, tucking a strand of her soft hair behind her ear.

Bella shifted again in my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling herself so that she was sitting up fully. "You can't say that. You could have a stroke. Or you could spontaneously combust."

"If I spontaneously combust with you on my lap, I don't think that you need to worry about waking up without me, because we'll both be gone," I replied, shaking my head. "Bella, you need to sleep. The doctor said that he would tell us more in the morning. And the morning will get here quicker if you are dreaming."

I pulled her back so that she was lying more comfortably. I kept my grip loose enough for her to move, but tight enough so that I knew she was there. This would be the third night that Bella had fallen asleep in my arms, if I had my way.

"What if I have a nightmare?" she asked and then immediately gulped.

The idea of her having a nightmare upset me. I was protective of her. Maybe for me protecting her was somehow making up for no one protecting me all those years ago. Or maybe I cared about her a lot more than I let myself believe.

"I'll be right here. And if I'm asleep, you'll wake me up. I don't want you to try to fight through this alone." She nodded. "Promise me."

"I promise. If I have a nightmare, I'll wake you up."

"Okay," I said with a sigh. I removed the hand that was at her lower back and brushed my messy hair from my eyes again. "Sweet dreams."

For a while, I just sat there and felt as her breathing became steady and even. My heart adjusted itself to beat in time with hers. The last thing I remember hearing before my eyes finally gave into the heaviness that kept pushing down on them was Bella sigh and say "Edward."

I awoke to Bella removing herself from my lap and putting the blanket down on top of me. She assumed that I was still asleep, so I kept up the façade. A nurse, one that Bella seemed to know, had come to talk to her.

"Charlie just woke up. He's asking about you," the nurse said.

"Oh, that's great. Can you tell him that I'll be there in a minute?" I could hear the relief swimming through her voice. It made me want to smile, but I didn't so that I could keep up the act.

"Of course, Bella," the nurse replied. Then she giggled. "Is that your boyfriend? He's a fox. Way prettier than the guys you used to date."

"Mrs. Webber," Bella said in disbelief or shock. "To be fair, I didn't date that many guys. And, Edward and I, we're just...we are…Okay, I don't know what we are. We're friends. We've been on a couple of dates. We live together."

The nurse gasped.

"Not like that. There are a bunch of us that live in a house." And then Bella's tone changed to desperate. "Please don't tell my father. He just had a heart attack and I don't want to give him another one."

She didn't know what to label us as. That was probably my fault. I hadn't exactly made much of an effort to tell her how I felt about her. We had been taking things slow. Well, up until a couple of days ago we had been taking things slow.

"I won't, Bella," the nurse promised. "But, sweetie, if this guy dropped everything and flew from Chicago to be with you when you found out about your dad, then I think he sees you as more than just a friend or roommate." I did my best to keep my breathing even and keep up the charade.

"I know." I could feel her gaze even with my eyes shut. My body was that attuned to her. "Tell Charlie that I'll be there soon."

I listened to the nurse's footsteps as she retreated. Bella stood directly in front of me and leaned down to kiss my lips.

"You are a horrible actor. That career is definitely out for you."

I let my eyes fall open. "How long have you known?" I asked. A smile skirted briefly across her lips as she sat down in the chair next to me, the book she had lent me finding its way onto her lap.

"Since you woke up. I think that I know by now what your breathing sounds like when you are asleep," she said.

"That's creepy," I replied, smiling.

Bella rolled her eyes at me. Her fingers trailed along the edges of the book, tracing its shape. It could constitute fidgeting, which she was apt to do when nervous or embarrassed or anxious. Bella couldn't really keep still. She was always restless about one thing or another.

"So, about what the nice nurse-lady said…" I said trailing off at the end, because I didn't really know what to say.

"Which part?" she asked. I would have wagered that she knew full-well which part that I was referring to. But I didn't gamble. I had grown up with Emmett and he had the uncanny ability to never lose at a bet.

"The boyfriend part." When my eyes met Bella's I couldn't read her expression. It could have been a number of things, half of which made me nauseous and afraid of this conversation.

"Oh, that," she replied nonchalantly.

"Yes, that," I said curtly. "Would you be adverse to me being your boyfriend?"

"You want to be my boyfriend?"

I put my face in my hands and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. Then, I began tugging at my hair gently, anything to keep me from over-reacting. That would have been stupid. I needed to remain calm here for Bella's sake.

"I can't tell if you are toying with me or if you are genuinely shocked," I said. "Either way, yes, I want to be your boyfriend. Plus, I think it would be better for me to be introduced to your father as your boyfriend rather than the guy that you live next door to and occasionally sleep in the same bed with. But it's really your choice. I'm fine either way."

Her hand began stroke along my shoulder. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to tease you. I want to be your girlfriend. And, yes, it would be a whole hell of a lot easier to explain to Charlie about why you are here. A bit of heads up, though, he's probably not going to be thrilled to meet you."

I smiled. "Go see him. And don't worry about me. I give good parent."

While she skipped off to go visit her father, I went down to the cafeteria to get us some coffee and a small breakfast. It was relatively early in the morning, so there was still quite a bit of food. Then again, the hospital wasn't that big. And I hadn't seen many other patients or guests. It was entirely possible that all of these nurses and doctors were here for Charlie alone.

After getting Bella's coffee that way that she liked it—cream and two sugars—I took the elevator back to the floor where Bella's dad was staying. I had barely wandered into the waiting room, when Bella was beside me. She took the coffee and blueberry muffin that I offered her. Bella sipped the coffee and looked at me in surprise.

"How do you know how I take my coffee?"

I shrugged. "I pay attention."

"That's creepy," she said, teasing me with the same words that I used maybe fifteen minutes before. Bella took another sip of her coffee. A sigh of contentment fell from her lips. "Come on. Charlie wants to meet you."

The emotion that I experienced as I walked down the brightly-lit tile hallway couldn't be described as fear. I wasn't afraid to meet Bella's father, but, at the same time, I knew how much he meant to her. She hadn't been close to him as a child, but now he was the only family that she had. And I really didn't want to fuck up the first impression. Or give him another heart attack. My mind went back to all of those etiquette lessons that my mother had forced on Emmett and me. I think that Emmett was the only person that Mrs. Wainwright ever kicked out of etiquette lessons.

We stopped in front of a room and the familiar sound of a heart monitor filled my ears. It was like hearing a nursery rhyme from your childhood as an adult. It sounded different and familiar at the same time.

Bella pulled me into the room. Sue, her step-mother, was sitting in a chair next to the bed. She had seemed very nice from the brief conversation that I had with her when we had arrived yesterday. My eyes had been purposely avoiding looking at the man on the bed, but I finally forced them to.

He seemed to be a sturdy man, not over-weight, but built. His dark hair and eyes reminded me of Bella's. And he couldn't have been much older than forty. My parents had had us young too. I always had the youngest parents in the class, which most people believed to mean that I had cool parents. I did, but it didn't have anything to do with their age.

"You must be Edward," he said. His voice wasn't very strong right now, but I assumed that had I met him a few days ago it would have intimidated the shit out of me.

Bella walked across the room and left me there under her father's scrutiny. Traitor.

"Yes, sir. I'm Edward Cullen."

Charlie slowly turned his head to look at Bella. "Sir? I already like him better than the last one. What was his name? Demetri?"

He liked me better. I could help but do a small internal victory dance. That was something.

"Dad," Bella replied with a sigh. "We really don't need to discuss that right now."

"Does he not know about the dullards that you used to date?" Bella groaned and looked down at the floor. Her father turned his attention back to me. "Has she told you about the dullards that she usually dates?"

"We haven't discussed each one specifically, sir, but she has mentioned the general characteristics of the guys that she has dated."

"Again with the sir. You can call me Charlie."

"Yes, sir," I replied, before realizing what I said. Charlie smiled at me.

"Relax, kid. I already owe you a debt of gratitude for taking care of Bella. She over-reacts about everything and the fact that she can sit here without being sedated must have something to do with you." I glanced over at Bella. She looked away and took another sip of her coffee.

"Is there anything I can do for you, Charlie?" I asked.

He snorted. "Could you take Bella to the house and make her sleep for more than a few hours?" I rolled my eyes. There was no way in hell that was going to happen.

"Charlie," Bella said sternly.

"She's stubborn as hell, sir. And now that you're awake, there's no way she'll leave your side."  
He smiled, obviously knowing this to be the case.

"Guess I'll just have to put up with her all day then."


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Yes, it's one of those elusive days where I update twice. I couldn't stop. It's not very long, but it's right. At least in my mind. Maybe you all will see it as filler. Let me know what you think.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, Sports Illustrated, or X-Box.

* * *

Edward had insisted that I go down to the hospital cafeteria and eat something for lunch. It was our fifth day in Forks, fifth day since I had learned about Charlie's heart attack, and my eating and sleeping schedules were still out of whack. Everything was screwy and I was worried that sleep deprivation was going to bring on visions of purple, hazy elephants. So far, though, it just made everything seem substantial. The fluorescent lights of the hospital were too much and I found myself becoming nauseous. And the steady beeping of Charlie's heart monitor scared me when it became irregular, even for half a second.

Sue had left this morning to take Seth, her son and my step-brother, to his first day of sophomore year. She hadn't come back yet and I assumed that she had probably passed out. Sue had been sleeping at the hospital too. And I knew that it had to be especially hard for her because it had only been a few years since she lost her first husband to a heart attack.

Because Sue was gone, I didn't want to go get lunch. I didn't want Charlie to wake up alone. Edward said that he would stay and go eat after I was finished.

On my way back, while walking through the hallway, I heard them talking. And, being the nosy person that I am, I hid outside and listened to their conversation.

"Are you originally from Chicago?" Charlie asked.

I could just imagine Edward running his fingers through his amazing bronze hair as he answered the question. "No. My family is originally from New Hampshire. I moved to Chicago four years ago."

My father would be nodding at this, no doubt. "So, are you a student? Or what is it that you do?"

"I'm a painter."

Charlie would be scratching his head at this. "As in an artist or as in I could get you to re-do the trim on my house while you're here?"

Edward laughed quietly. I loved his laugh. I loved lots of things about him. This trip, as awful and scary as it was, had let me see Edward more clearly. And I liked what I saw.

"I could try to paint the trim, but I've never really done that before so there are no guarantees on how it will turn out," he said. "No, I'm an artist painter, I guess. I have a studio and a gallery."

I wasn't really sure about how Charlie would react. Art wasn't really his thing. He supported me with my writing, but his idea of literature was _Sports Illustrated_.

"And you make money doing this? You support yourself?"

I heard Edward's sigh. "My art doesn't leave me swimming in money, but, yes, I make more than enough to provide for myself."

There was a brief lull in the conversation and I almost revealed myself to them. When my father started talking, though, I was happy that I hadn't.

"Thank you for watching out for Bella in Chicago." Edward laughed.

"I don't know if you should thank me. Every time I try she gets huffy with me. Bella is strong and independent. And she can take care of herself."

Charlie laughed quietly. "That's true. She's always been able to take care of herself. Though I wish that sometimes she would let someone else take care of her."

"Bella," Sue said behind me and it made me jump. And I shrieked, thus alerting the boys to my presence. Shit. I was having a good time listening to them bonding. It thrilled me to no end that they were getting along. I loved Charlie. And I loved Edward.

Fuck. I loved Edward. Did I really mean that? Or was that like when you say that you love ice cream or the color red or hookah? I couldn't really love Edward.

"Bella, dear," Sue said again. "Are you okay? You look like you're not feeling well."

I swallowed and nodded. "Um, can you just tell them that I went to get something at the house and that I'll be back soon?" Sue nodded, still gazing at me curiously. She walked into the room. And I practically sprinted to the elevators.

I had to get out of the building.

My thoughts were all jumbled as I climbed into the Volvo that Edward had rented for us while we were here. On instinct alone, I drove back to Charlie's house. And all the while the same thought played on repeat in my mind: Did I love Edward? Or did I only think that I loved him because he had been really good to be lately? Were my feelings genuine?

I pulled up and went into the house. And something felt off. I heard a noise from upstairs and I hadn't remembered where the door was locked or not.

"Seth," I yelled out. And less than a minute later he was standing in the living room looking at me sheepishly. "Don't you have school?"

"They let out early," he said smoothly. He was a little liar pants. I lifted one eyebrow at him and he instantly recounted his story. "Okay, that's not true. It's the first day, Bella. And it's boring as hell, so I skipped out. Plus, I couldn't focus because Charlie is in the hospital and he's only forty-one. And we had been arguing that morning about my stupid X-Box and chores. And I think I made him have the heart attack."

I wrapped my arms around the fifteen year old, but he just lifted me in the air; he was too strong for his own good.

"You didn't make Charlie have a heart attack. He has awful genes and eating greasy and fatty food all the time didn't exactly help him." Seth sat me back on the floor.

"Don't tell my mom that I ditched. She has enough to worry about." I nodded in acquiescence to his request. "Wait, what are you doing here? You've been practically living at the hospital with that one guy."

I reclined on the couch, but Seth came over. He lifted my legs up and sat them on his lap.

"That one guy is my boyfriend. His name is Edward, but you already know this because I've told you twice. You didn't get into his weed stash, did you?"

Seth looked at me curiously. "Edward smokes reefer?"

I mentally berated myself. Smooth move, Bella. That was the best thing you could have told your fifteen year old step-brother who was incapable of keeping his mouth shut. "It was a joke," I lied. "What's your problem with Edward?" Maybe my little step-brother had picked up on something that I had missed.

He smiled. "I don't have a problem with him. Edward seems nice or fine or whatever. And you seem happy again." Seth was right of course. He made me happy. "What's your problem with him? Why are you hiding out here?"

"I don't have a problem with him. I…I think that I love him."

Seth laughed at what must have been the pained look on my face. I didn't find any humor in my dilemma. I gently kicked him and he stopped.

"Just go fucking tell him."

"Okay, one, watch the language or I will tell your mother. And, two, what if I don't really love him and I tell him that I do. It will just fuck everything up."

Seth smiled wide at me. "Okay, one, watch the language or I will tell your father. And, two, if you love someone you have to tell them."

I crossed my arms over my chest and slid my feet off of his lap and onto the floor. "I don't know why I'm taking love advice from you. You still give out heart-shaped valentines to all the pretty girls in your class."

"Ouch, Bella," he said, sounding genuinely hurt. "I was just trying to help out my big sister."

"Sorry, little brother," I said sweetly as I hoped that he would forgive me.

Seth smiled. He never could hold a grudge in all the time that I had known him. I think that I had first met him at Jake's house. Seth was just a little brat then that bugged the shit out of Jacob until he agreed to play catch with him. It was strange to see how he had grown from chubby, little boy to lanky young man.

"Will you make me chocolate chip cookies tonight?" he asked. It had been the dessert that I made when Charlie decided that our two families should meet. Every time that I had come back from college, Seth and I always made cookies.

"Only if I can sleep in your bed tonight. Those hospital chairs are going to permanently damage my back." He wrinkled his forehead as he seriously considered the offer.

"I supposed that means that Edward will be with you." I nodded. "No exchanging fluids."

I started choking.

"What about kissing?"

"If I don't get to kiss someone on my bed, you don't get to kiss someone on my bed."

"Deal," I said as I held out my hand, which he gladly shook.

"Go back to your boyfriend. And remember not to say anything to mom."

I drove back to the hospital in silence, not even bothering to turn on the radio. My mind was still conflicted about whether or not I loved Edward. And, if I did, was now even the right time to bring it up. He'd been my boyfriend a couple of days. We hadn't even gotten to second base yet. I couldn't love him.

My phone rang and I prayed that it wasn't him. I still wasn't ready to talk to him. The name on my caller ID freaked me out even more. Alice. We hadn't spoken since the night that I blew up at her and Edward and everyone within a three-foot radius. And the next day, the day Edward and I went to the zoo, I hadn't been ready to forgive her. I still wasn't sure if I was ready to talk to her. She talked all the time about fixing things and making everything perfect, but she couldn't even get me a little warning that my dad was going to have a heart attack. What was the point of having a psychic as a friend if she couldn't even tell me that?

I ignored the call.

And maybe I shouldn't have, because when I pulled up to the hospital she, Edward, and Emmett were standing outside waiting for me. Did Edward know they were coming? He hadn't mentioned if he had known. Why were they even here? Was it because I wouldn't answer my damn phone? Because that was a shitty reason for flying to Washington.

I was tempted to throw the car in reverse and get the hell out of dodge, but I decided to pretend I was an adult.

Edward cleaned his glasses on his green plaid shirt—it was my favorite that he owned—as I walked up and stood beside him, crossing my arms. I glanced at him, but Edward's face gave away nothing. Emmett shifted from his toes to his heels. And Alice just stood there being creepy.

None of us said a word.

"Fuck this shit," Emmett said. I wasn't surprised that he cracked first. He hated awkward silences. "Bella, when are you coming home?"

"I am home."

He groaned. "That's not what I mean, tiger lily. When are you coming back to Chicago? We miss you."

"Em, my dad just had a heart attack. And he's not going to be able to go back to work for at least three months," I said.

I could feel the tension building around all of us.

Edward took my hand in his. "Bella, are you saying that you won't be back for three months?"

Honestly, I didn't know what I was saying. I felt like I needed to stay. Charlie was going to be a handful and Sue couldn't take care of him by himself. I could still back out of Northwestern, just for a semester, and come back to Washington to help him get better.

"No," Alice said firmly, speaking for the first time.

And I knew she wasn't answering Edward's question. She was reacting to future that my thoughts would bring. I turned to look at her. The blue in her eyes seemed brighter than I remembered it.

"Alice, I don't want to do this right now."

"Well, that's too damn bad, Bella," she replied.

I heard Emmett mutter, "Cat fight."

I yanked my hand from Edward and crossed my arms over my chest again.

"I'm sorry that you felt like I was controlling every aspect of your life. I really truly am. And if I ever do it again, I want you to tell me because the last thing I want is for you to be unhappy." She seemed genuine, but I still didn't want to believe her.

"You're doing it right now by telling me not to stay," I said quietly.

"How about I tell you what the future is going to look like if you stay here and then let you make up your mind?" She didn't even wait for an answer. "You say that you'll only hold off on Northwestern for a semester, but you'll never come back. Not to Chicago either. You and Edward—done for. Bella, I know…I know, and I know that you love your dad. But he's going to be fine."

I swallowed a few times, trying to calm my nerves. She knew. Was that the thing that I wasn't even sure that I knew?

Alice giggled and nodded. "I know."

I tried to picture the life that she said—a life where my dreams were left unfulfilled, a life where I didn't return to the city that I had grown to love, a life without Edward. I didn't want that life. And even though I was really worried about my dad, I trusted Alice. If she promised that he would be fine, then I had to believe her.

"He will be," Alice said, answering the question I was about to ask.

I nodded. "I want to stay another night and say good bye to him."

"Of course," she replied.

And then I started laughing for some dumb reason because I realized that our fight was over. Alice jumped into my arms and started giggling too. Emmett muttered something about kissing and making up. Edward just stood by looking confused.

"So, what's going on?" he asked.

"I'm going home."


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: I updated the grammar. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Don't own Twilight.

* * *

As soon as I went back to Chicago, I felt like I was on overload, like at any second I was going to reach my boiling point. My graduate seminars started and I had to meet with my advisor once a week to work on my writing piece. I also had to make up for missing a week at work and being short-funded almost meant that I was going to have to ask Rosalie for an extension for rent, but when I went to ask her, she said that it was taken care of. She wouldn't tell me who covered it and I couldn't figure out which one of the rich kids paid my rent. At first, it pissed me off because I was able to take care of myself; I didn't need a hand out. But I knew that whoever did it was just looking out for me, trying to make my life easier on me so I stopped bitching about it.

Every second that wasn't spent working ten hours a day, I was sitting alone in my room typing until my fingers started to cry and begged to be cut off. My writing was what had gotten me to this point and I couldn't neglect it. I had to pour as much passion and commitment into it now.

But it was getting lonely.

I woke up before Edward and left the building before I got to talk to him or anyone. I was either at Northwestern or the diner for the entire day. And then I typed until I passed out at my desk. But I always awoke in my bed with an alarm set to wake me up at the right time. The first time it happened and I realized what Edward had done, I almost started crying. He was good to me, way too good to me.

On the morning of my birthday, I had the early shift—6 AM until noon—and I rolled over to find Edward next to me. He didn't always sleep in the same bed as me, but I loved it when he did. I loved to wake up with him next to me because it meant that I got to see him. He groaned quietly.

"Happy birthday, Bella," Edward said, his voice was low and groggy with sleep. But he smiled wide at me and forced his eyes open.

I bit my bottom lip and smiled at him. "Thanks."

His fingers tangled in my hair and forced my face closer. Before I realized it, his lips had captured mine. I couldn't even remember the last time I had kissed him. Maybe the morning of my first seminar and that was a week ago. I had missed him so much. My mouth was about to suggest skipping work and, instead, sucking Edward. But I knew that I couldn't.

Edward panted breathlessly and stared straight into my eyes. His hand brushed back the hair that was blocking his view of my face. "Tonight. I don't care what plans you had before. You have better ones now."

"Do I?" I asked with a smile.

"Yeah, if you want. Just me and you. Dinner. Dessert. A little alone time without any distractions."

God, it sounded so perfect. I wanted that. I wanted it right now.

I nodded. "Yeah. What time? What do I need to wear?" He smiled quickly and kissed my lips.

"Um, I'll pick you up here at seven. You can wear whatever you want. You could even show up naked. It is your birthday." I shook my head.

"Maybe for your birthday I'll show up naked," I joked.

Edward's eyes seemed to glow even brighter in the early morning light. "Damn, why does June have to be so far away?" I looked down, sure that I was blushing. "Are you allergic to any foods?"

"Why?" I asked warily.

"Because as much as I'd like to just make the food and hope you don't die, it would suck to go to the ER on your birthday."

I frowned. "Wouldn't be the first time." Edward looked at me curiously. "No, I don't have any food allergies."

I thought that this would satisfy him, but he appeared to be even more worried.

"What are you allergic to?"

"Just Penicillin. So, unless you plan on injecting me with antibiotics, I'll be fine."

All worry finally eased itself from his beautiful face. I tried to stop my hand, honestly I did, but I reached up and brushed the hair out of his face, trailing my fingers along his cheek. Then they lightly grazed his throat before coming to rest on his heart. I could feel it beating steadily beneath my hand.

I wanted to stay like this all day.

"I have to go to work. I'll see you tonight." He nodded and leaned in to kiss me.

"Tonight," he agreed.

Work was pretty busy, which was a good thing and a bad thing. It was bad because it kept me running ragged all six hours. But it was good because it made the time pass quicker. And it didn't give my mind too much time to wander and wonder.

Edward and I had a grand total of two dates, neither of which ended in a normal manner. The first with me falling asleep and the second with a trip to Washington. And, while I hadn't known the boy…man that long, I knew that I loved him. I wanted to tell him, maybe not tonight but soon. It felt like a secret that was burning me up from the inside out.

When I got back to the building, the first thing that I did was take a shower. I washed the greasy food smell from out of my hair. And I lathered up my body. Then I shaved. It was probably the longest shower than I had ever taken because I was being so meticulous about everything.

The second that I was dressed, Alice walked into my room. She plopped down on my bed, a wrapped present in her hand. Fear ran through my entire body. Alice and presents didn't bode well in my mind. I couldn't see how this could possibly end well.

"Open it," Alice said cheerfully. "And happy birthday."

With great reluctance, I took the present from her and unwrapped it. And then I blushed bright red. And I started coughing.

"Um, Alice?" I asked.

"Yes, Bella?"

I laughed nervously. "Why did you get me a book on sex positions?"

"Edward has the same one. I gave it to him for his birthday. It confused him too." I kept laughing tensely and turning ten shades of red.

"Not exactly what I asked, dear."

Alice sat down cross-legged and stared up at me innocently, like there wasn't a book with diagrams and pictures and descriptions sitting between us on the bed. I tried to not think about the book. I tried to focus on anything other than the book—starving children or ping pong or Chinese dynasties.

She smiled. "You trust me, right?" I just stared at her and refused to answer the question. "Not tonight. But bring up the book to him. He might surprise you."

I groaned and covered my face. "Please, Bella, dispense with the prudish act. You want Edward. Edward wants you. The book is just a way for you two to get on the same page."

I sighed. "Thank you, Alice."

"You're welcome, Bella. And remind Edward to use a condom tonight."

I choked out, "Okay."

I felt like when I was twelve and my mom decided that it was the appropriate time to have that wonderful and awkward discussion on where babies really come from. She went into graphic detail on what happened during sex and even had me practice putting a condom on a banana. I thought that I was going to die from embarrassment. I wasn't even able to look at the guys in my class for two weeks without blushing furiously.

This wasn't much better. I was sure that when I looked at Edward that all I would be able to think about is the stupid book. And then he would want to know why I was blushing. And then I would tell him. And then I would never get in his pants.

I decided to start getting ready at five. And that left me with too much time to think. I went down to the first floor to grab something for lunch. Emmett was there making himself a sandwich. I sat down at the table and looked at him. He ignored me completely until the sandwich was piled way too high. Then he sat across from me.

"I forgot to pack my lunch this morning," he said with his mouth half-full. "And happy birthday, Smurfette."

I laughed. "Emmett, do you even know my name?"

"Of course, I do, Dixie. It's Bella. But everyone calls you Bella." He took another bite of his sandwich.

"And you're not everyone," I replied.

"Nope." He swallowed his bite quickly. "So, what does my brother have planned for tonight?"

I shrugged. "I was actually hoping you could tell me. Did he ever do anything special with his other girlfriends?"

Em avoided the question and took another bite. I tapped my fingers on the table impatiently and waited for him to swallow. He had to choose then to suddenly develop manners.

"You're the first girl that I've seen Edward with in a long time. There's no telling what he'll do. But, whatever it is, I'm sure you'll love it. He was always better with the romance sort of stuff than I was." I smiled and looked down at the table. "I gotta get back to work, Betty. But have a good birthday. And maybe chillax a little, because you look tense."

I was so nervous about tonight. And I didn't know what to wear or do or say. I didn't know what to do to get what I wanted for my birthday. So, I sucked up my pride and went and talked to the expert.

I knocked on her door and when she pulled it open, she was more than a little shocked to see me.

"I need your help," I said.

She laughed. And then came to the realization that it wasn't a joke. "Why me?"

"Because you know what men like. I can't talk to any of the guys about this because they'll either laugh or tell Edward. And I don't want to have another conversation about my sex life with Alice. And, well, Rose is a bitch. You are too, but a slightly more bearable bitch."

Jane laughed once. "I thought you wanted my help?"

"I do." I crossed my arms over my chest and looked down at the flat, ugly carpet.

She started playing with her fingernails. "What do you need me to do?"

"Can you make me pretty so that Edward will want to have sex with me tonight?"

I expected a "no" or a "fuck off." Maybe a "you should have been nicer, bitch, and stopped calling me a whore."

"About freaking time," she said. "The sexual tension between you two is annoying. Has been ever since that first morning and your stupid argument in the hallway when he was in a towel."

I licked my lips at the memory.

"Is that a yes?" I asked hopefully.

She played with her light brown hair. "Fine," Jane said as she rolled her eyes. "Give me thirty minutes."

"Oh my gosh, I love you," I exclaimed. Then I shrugged. "You know what I mean."

Jane's eyes swept my body. And it was starting to creep me out until she finally looked me in the eyes and smiled. "I think I have a dress that will fit perfectly on you. It might be a little snug in the chest, but Edward won't complain." She nodded to herself. "Thirty minutes."

When I walked down the stairs at seven, the entire house was standing at the bottom. And they were all staring at me. I felt a blush start rising up, but I ignored it. I knew how good I looked. My usually boring brown hair fell in loose waves around my face. And Jane had done my makeup—not too much or too little. The heels, while not my favorite thing, did make my legs look longer and more toned. Then there was the dress. It was short, black, and strapless. It also made my boobs look incredible. I was worried that I was going to fall out of the dress, but Jane insisted that I would be fine.

Alice giggled quietly. And Jane was standing there looking smug. Rosalie looked kind of pissed, but that was probably because Emmett was staring at my rack. I avoided looking at Jasper or Alec for fear that they were doing the same thing and instead focused on Edward. He looked slightly bashful as he looked down at the ground with a smile.

His eyes came back up though and met mine. He took my hand and leaned close to whisper in my ear. "You look delicious. Delectable. Dazzling."

"You don't look so bad yourself," I replied, pulling back to look at his clothes. Black slacks. White button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Gray vest. Black tie. I wanted him. Right here. On the stairs. In front of everyone we lived with.

Alice gasped. "Bella." While they all turned to look at her, I blushed.

"We should go," I said, pointing towards the door.

He laughed and walked me to the waiting cab. Edward gave the guy an address that I didn't recognize. But I was still Chicago illiterate so it was possible that it was the address for his gallery or something and I was just too ignorant to know.

I fidgeted the entire ride and Edward repeatedly grabbed my hands to calm me down. His touch didn't really help the anxiety that I was feeling. It was just a few minutes later that we pulled up in front of a nice, window-y building. Edward helped me out of the cab.

We walked through a modern-styled lobby and toward an elevator. The place looked very industrial and stream-lined. Edward pressed seventeen. And up we went to the seventeenth floor. He took my hand and helped me out of the elevator, guiding me to a door. He unlocked it and we stepped into the foyer.

We walked around the corner and I could smell something delicious in the kitchen. The kitchen, living room, and dining room were all one large area. From where I stood, near the kitchen counter, I could see, at the far end of the room, huge floor-to-ceiling windows. In front of the windows was a very soft-looking tan couch.

"I'll have to warm up the food, but it shouldn't be more than five or ten minutes," he said as I wandered toward the windows.

"It's so beautiful here."

"I'm glad that you like it. I haven't really done much to the place, because I'm so rarely here. But, if you really like it, I might have to take a trip to IKEA." I laughed.

"I love your loft. And I love that you brought me here." And I love you. I wanted to say it. I did. But my lips refused to speak the words.

Edward did his magic in the kitchen and then gave me a tour of the loft. Off of the living room was the master bedroom with its own bathroom and a walk-in closet. I tried my hardest not to imagine rolling around with Edward on the king-sized bed. Then he showed me the second bathroom. And a second bedroom, which was completely empty except for a couple of boxes that were piled together in the corner.

A beeping went off in the kitchen and Edward smiled, his eyes shining. He took my hand excitedly and sat me down at the table. Then he skipped back to the kitchen and pulled something out of the oven that made my mouth-water. My stomach growled as he sat the plate down in front of me. But, instead of sitting down too, he went back to the kitchen and brought a bottle of wine to the table.

When he finally sat down at the table, all I could do was smile at him. Everything seemed perfect. We were all alone, really all alone. I turned off my cell phone and threw it to the couch that was a few feet away. He smiled brightly at me and did the same thing.

"No distractions. Just me and you," Edward said and I knew that I had to be blushing.

"Um, so what are we eating tonight?"

He shifted in his seat. "Braised quail. I hope it tastes okay. I tried."

I played with the waves in my hair. "I can see that. I'm sure that it's delicious."

And I was right. Dinner was fantastic. He was good at everything. That's when my mind went into the gutter and I began to wonder if he really was good at everything. I mean, he looked damn fine. He had to be good, right?

"What are you thinking about that has you blushing?" Edward's smooth voice asked, luring me out of my fantasies and back into the reality where he really was sitting in front of me looking fuck-hot.

"I…" I laughed and looked down briefly before meeting his eyes again. "I don't want to tell you."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Why not? Is it bad? Is it about another guy? Were you thinking about my brother?"

"No," I exclaimed. I took a sip of my wine. "It was definitely not about your brother or any other guy."

"Tell me," Edward begged. "Please." He even stuck out his bottom lip. And…ugh.

"I was thinking about you," I relented, feeling the crimson return to my face.

Edward took my hand and led me over to the couch. He put our phones on the floor in the little space between the couch and the wall. He sat down and pulled me onto his lap. It was comfortable for us. While we were in Forks, I slept in his lap a few times and sometimes he would hold me when I burst out crying for no apparent reason.

But this time was different. His hands traced up and down my legs, stopping to take off the high heels that I so hated and dropping them behind the couch. Once they were off, he continued to stroke the skin of my calf muscles. He always stopped at my knee where the hem of my dress reached.

"I got you a birthday cake from the bakery down the street. And cookies. And brownies. I think I even got a peach cobbler or something."

I smiled. "Are you trying to fatten me up?" He rolled his flawless green eyes at me.

"No, dear. Actually, I was just going to get you a cake and then I got worried that maybe you didn't like cake. So I decided to get cookies too, but I didn't know your favorite kind—I haven't gotten that out of you yet. So I got brownies too. Then I really started freaking out because I wasn't sure if you liked chocolate or not. And that's how I ended up with the peach cobbler."

I traced along his cheek bone with my index finger and then across his prominent jaw line. I brought my finger up to his lips and he pretended like he was going to bite it. Then I pulled my hand away.

"Thank you for all of this, for wanting my birthday to be perfect." He shrugged as if all his preparations and planning were nothing. "It is by far the best birthday I've ever had."

"That's good," he said nervously. I felt my forehead wrinkle in confusion.

"Are you okay?" He nodded and took a deep breath. "Are you sure?" He nodded again, but it really didn't help to ease my worry.

"Okay, so, I've been debating on the right time to do this. And I'm not sure that it's the right time, but, fuck it, I have to do this or else I'm seriously going to regret it."

"Okay," I said thoroughly confused by his mini-rant.

Edward turned my face toward him. And he looked directly into my eyes. His were all shiny and terrified and I was sure mine looked the same. "I love you," Edward said quietly. "You don't have to say it back or whatever, but I just really wanted you to know. I love you, Bella."

I gulped. And I felt stupid, happy tears in my eyes. "I love you too."

"You do?" he asked quietly.

I laughed. "Yes, Edward, I love you."

"That's weird," he mumbled and I started laughing.

"Why is it weird?"

He shrugged. "I really wasn't expecting you to say it back."

I frowned and forced him to look at me. "Did you think that I didn't love you?" He shrugged and it annoyed the shit out of me. "No, really? Am I doing a sucky job as a girlfriend and not showing it?"

He played with his hair for a few seconds, but it looked like he was ready to pull it out. "We just haven't spent much time together lately. And I really wasn't sure if you felt the same way that I did."

I leaned closer to him and kissed his lips chastely at first. I placed my hand in his hair and used my grip on him to pull his lips back to mine with a little more force. Edward smiled and he gently grazed his teeth along my bottom lip. Somehow during the make out, my other hand came up and tangled itself in Edward's hair too. His hands, however, were on my hips. And I was now straddling him, my dress riding up to mid-thigh.

"Best birthday ever," I panted when his lips left mine.

He chuckled as his lips left a line of kisses down my throat. "I bet that I can make it even better."

My fingers nimbly started to unbutton his gray vest. I almost wished that he could keep it on because he looked so damn good in it. But, alas, it was keeping me from what I wanted, so it was coming off. I dropped it behind the couch with our cell phones and my high heels.

Then I went to work on his white shirt. But it was even more difficult to concentrate on the buttons because he was kissing and licking and sucking along my collar bones. The functionality of my motor skills decreased so greatly and that I just gave up and ripped the shirt off of him, scattering the remaining buttons all over the couch.

Edward laughed and brought his lips back to mine for a quick peck. "It's a good thing that I wasn't fond of that shirt."

"Just help me get it off you," I replied. He moved his shoulders and helped me put the shirt in the heap that was growing behind the couch.

"Maybe we should relocate this," he suggested. I was sure he meant the bed, but I had something better in mind.

I nodded and smirked. Then I climbed off of his lap and stood with my back against the plain, white wall that separated the living room from his bedroom. He quirked an eyebrow, but didn't look displeased.

"This is what you want?" he asked.

"I want you to remember me every time you look at this wall. I want you to make me moan in pleasure. I want you inside of me." I had no idea where the boldness to say those things came from, but it felt good to say them.

His eyes momentarily glazed over.

"The birthday girl gets whatever she wants," he responded. His voice was similar to when we were arguing, but held more of an edge on it.

I could feel my heart pound rapidly in my chest, threatening to crack my sternum in two, as he dropped down to his knees in front of me. My legs felt like they were going to give out as his hands slowly inched their way up my thighs. With one finger, he pulled my drenched thong down. When I stepped out of it, he put it in his pocket.

Still on his knees, he slid his hand up my inner thigh again until he reached my center. Tentatively, he traced along my slit and circled my clit but refused to touch it directly. But when he finally did, my knees buckled and I gasped out his name. Edward looked up at me and smirked. Then, he inserted a finger in me and pumped. Then another. At first, slow and even, but increasing in speed until I was so close. So very close that I was begging.

"Please, Edward," I panted. "Fuck."

He added a third finger and curled them. A few more pumps as I was done for, mumbling incoherently as I tried to explain the nearly unbearable pleasure. I rested my head against the wall as Edward stood to his feet. He licked me off of his fingers.

"I was right. You are delicious."

And I don't know what came over me, possibly it was because I was still on an orgasm high, but I threw my arms around him kissed him hard, tasting myself on his tongue.

My fingers slipped down to unbutton his pants, but his hands were already there, so I tried to unzip my dress. Edward just shook his head. "Leave it on. I want to fuck you in it."

I leaned back against the wall, catching my breath and waited for him. He pulled his pants and boxers down slightly, letting his hard cock go free. I stared at him in wonder as he pulled a condom from somewhere and ripped it open. He slid it on efficiently and brought his gaze back to me.

Edward and I took a step closer at the same time. I wrapped my arms around his neck. And he grabbed my ass and lifted me up so that I could put my legs around his waist. He backed us up against the wall.

Edward looked me straight in the eye as he pushed into me. A moan escaped my lips. It was like my body had been missing something, but had finally found the missing piece. And that was him. He fit in me perfectly. My body whined in protest as he pulled out only to be silenced when he thrust back into me quickly.

My held fell forward and I bit into his shoulder as he continued to pound into me. I swear that he found parts of my body that I never knew that I had. Every thrust sent sparks from my core to the tips of my toes. Every part of me was in ecstasy.

"Fuck, Edward. You feel so good inside of me," I gasped as he continued to rock into me.

"Shit, Bella, you don't know what you do to me when you talk like that." Edward grunted, banging me against the wall again. The pain only mixed with the pleasure for me, but I didn't know how much more his poor wall could take.

"I want you to cum inside of me."

"Fuck."

He reached between us and began to rub my clit. I could feel myself tightening. Every thrust. Every flick. Every pant and moan and sigh. All built up together and I felt myself just let go.

Another thrust and I felt Edward release too.

I wrapped my legs even tighter around him, refusing to let him pull out. My hands cupped his face and we kissed, our erratic breaths mixing with one another.

"Best birthday ever." He laughed at me and helped me back to the floor.

Edward pulled off the condom. Then he quickly pulled his boxers and pants back up, without buttoning them.

"Let me just throw this away," he said as he dashed to the en suite bathroom.

I followed him into the bedroom and reclined on his big bed. It was so comfortable. And my body was worn out.

"Can we stay here tonight?" I asked when he came back into the room. He had somehow changed into green athletic shorts. And he was still shirtless.

"Yeah. Whatever you want."


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: My schedule is pretty much obliterated. Though there will probably be a one day gap between this chapter and the next one. This one isn't as cheery as the last. Tell me what you think of it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, Cosmo, or Pepsi.

* * *

I woke up wearing only one of Edward's t-shirts that he had in his nearly empty walk-in closet. My dress was too tight to wear to bed and he still refused to give me back my panties, so I stole one of his shirts. And he slept in his green shorts. Even though the bed was massive, Edward still pulled me against his chest. I fell asleep to the sound of his steady breathing. And I woke in nearly the same position.

I turned in his arms and found him awake. He stared at me for a few seconds, his eyes not blinking even slightly. For some reason that I didn't quite comprehend, I was obsessed with the tattoo above Edward's heart. I couldn't stop myself from tracing it or mouthing the words or just putting my hand on top of it and feeling for myself that he was alive. I placed my palm flat against his chest and felt the thump-thump that proved that Edward was here and that he was mine.

"Good morning," I said.

The room was colder than our rooms back out the building. We had forgotten to set the timer for the air conditioner before we passed out last night. Goosebumps bubbled at the surface of my skin and I found myself shivering. Edward pulled me closer. He rubbed his hands quickly up and down my arms, trying to warm my chilled body with friction. But it was just making me want a different kind of friction. And from my new position, I could tell that he was plenty happy and up for some friction too.

I slid my hand from his heart down his chest and over his abdomen. His breath caught as I ran my fingers through his happy trail. Then, my hand went down even further to stroke him through the thin fabric of his shorts. Edward gasped and grabbed my hand.

"I…I don't think that's a good idea," he said nervously.

"Why not?"

I studied his face looking for some sort of clue about why on earth he would possibly stop me. According to my newest issue of Cosmo, guys liked morning sex. And it wasn't like it was our first time; we had done that the previous night. He said he loved me. Was something wrong? Was I bad? Did he never want to have sex with me again?

"You have work in a little bit and we need to get you back across town," he replied easily enough.

Was that really it? He was worried about me losing my job? He had never seemed too concerned about it before.

"I hate my job," I muttered.

"Doesn't everyone? Isn't that the prerequisite for being an adult in America?"

I laughed softly. "Wow." I glanced down and then back at him. "What about you? Do you hate your job?"

He shrugged in the way that he always did. "Not the painting part of it. I hate running the gallery though. And I hate stopping what I'm doing to go deal with someone who wants to look around or buy a piece." He sighed. "I think I'm going to have to hire someone to run the gallery for me so that I can just paint. Someone who can deal with people. Someone who wouldn't mind having a lot of free time. Someone who hates their job." He smiled at me.

"Me?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. "Are you suggesting me?"

Edward shrugged. "Why not? You already fit all of my requirements."

I fidgeted, pulling all of my hair back and then to one side. "What are your requirements?"

"Someone who I can stand to be around all day. Someone that can be nice to people so that they actually buy my art, because I'm kind of mean and sometimes high and they don't really like that. And someone who is young, hot, and intelligent. And needs a better job than the sucky one that she has."

I sighed. "Can I think about it?" He nodded. "What's the pay?"

Edward studied my face. He squinted his eyes and then opened them really wide. Stupid laughs left my lips at his silly faces.

"What's your pay now?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No. Tell me what you would pay someone else if you hired him." Edward groaned.

"Nine fifty an hour."

Holy smokes. Way above my minimum wage. Was he being serious? Was it even a smart move to work with him? What if we broke up? That would be awkward. But then so would living at the building.

"Okay," I said, knowing that I was going to regret this decision eventually. "When do I start?"

Edward smiled wide. "Tomorrow."

"Then we should celebrate. I have a new job. And I don't have to threaten the hot chick that you would have hired to run your gallery." I kissed his lips and I tried to slide my hand down his chest, but he stopped me again.

I groaned and pushed myself away from him. I sat up and stared at him.

"Why won't you have sex with me? Was I bad last night? Do I look like shit? What?" I asked. He sighed and pulled at his hair. It was already messy, but he was making it look like chaos.

"No, god, Bella. You were amazing. And you always look incredible."

"Then what?" I asked. He was so damn frustrating and confusing. I just wanted to strangle his pretty little neck.

He played with his hair again. "I don't want to talk about it." His voice made it sound like he was done with this conversation, but I wasn't anywhere near done. He was going to explain this to me.

"I don't understand," I said quietly. "And I really want to understand."

"It's personal," he said, climbing out of bed and walking to the bathroom.

"More personal than fucking me against your living room wall?" I asked as he shut the door in my face.

I was over this. I took off his stupid t-shirt and put back on my dress. Behind the couch, I found my shoes and my cell phone. My purse was on the floor by the table. I picked it up and walked out of his loft, slamming the door.

I was tempted to walk, but I had no idea how far we were from the building so I got a cab and paid him all of the money in my purse to get me home. Alec and Jasper were sitting in the living room discussing music or something. And they yelled out for me to join them. But they were guys and right then I kind of despised the entire gender.

I went straight to the bathroom and took a shower, trying to get rid of his scent which had somehow permeated my skin. It felt like I was surrounded with him. He had gotten under my skin and refused to leave.

Did he regret us having sex? Was he lying when he said he loved me? Was all of this just an elaborate act to get me under him?

I scrubbed my skin until it was raw, but I couldn't escape the memories of his hands caressing me. The tears fell like the steady stream of the shower. I didn't understand and it sent my mind running rampant with the worst possibilities.

He didn't want me.

I went back to my room and lay on my bed in only a towel. I locked the door and let myself cry some more. There was no point in getting up and going to work. I planned on quitting even if the job with Edward turned out to not exist come noon.

I heard a soft knock on the door, but I ignored it.

"Bella, please let me in," Alice said softly.

"Is he out there?" I asked.

"No," she replied. "He just got here. He's downstairs talking to Jasper and Alec."

I made sure that my towel was secure around me and climbed off of my bed to unlock the door for her. Seeing her was not at the top of my list of things to do today, but I needed to whine to someone. And she was the closest thing I had to a best friend in this house.

"He sucks. I hate him," I said when she locked the door behind her. I crawled under my covers and pulled them up to my neck.

"You don't hate Edward. And he doesn't hate you either," she said gently.

I snapped. "Then why the fuck is he acting like this?"

Alice looked down at my bedspread and traced a pattern in it. "We all do things that seem right to us to protect the people that we love."

"What is he trying to protect me from?"

"Himself," she said with a sigh. I didn't respond, instead just shaking my in disbelief. "He is. And I can understand it in a way. He's trying to protect you from the parts that he doesn't like about himself. I do that with Jasper."

"But you and Jasper aren't together," I replied. "You still haven't told him that you are in love with him. I told Edward. And he told me he loved me. And then he decided to protect me from himself. Fuck that. I love him. All of him."

Alice covered her eyes with her tiny hands. Then she sighed. "Okay. I see that you guys can fix this if you'll talk to him. Soon. Like I should be gone and you should be changing." She dashed out of the room while I put on jeans and Edward's stolen t-shirt not even bothering with a bra or panties. If time was of the essence, I could forgo undergarments.

I rushed down both flights of stairs, fearing that my poor ankles would snap before I reached him. My body was running to him, but my mind was still wary of this whole situation. The mental images were conflicting—Edward holding me and kissing me and fucking me and then him pushing me away.

I slowed down the last couple of steps. Jasper, Alec, and Edward all sat on the couches. And they were all staring at me. I stared straight at Edward and gulped.

"I love you."

He looked like he was in pain, but trying to pretend like he wasn't because he was a man. "I love you too."

"I want us to be together, to have a good relationship. But I don't see how that is possible if you keep shutting me out," I said, looking down at the floor. I shrugged because I didn't know what else to say. I should have prepared something.

Instead, I went to the fridge and grabbed me a Pepsi to calm my nerves. I could feel his eyes stare at me like that of a predator watching its prey's every move. Without speaking another word to him, I went back up the stairs. This, our future, our relationship, was in his hands. And he could do, or not do, whatever he pleased with it.

Before I was even halfway up the first flight, I heard his footsteps behind me.

"My room," he said.

I nodded, agreeing to his locale for this discussion. If he wanted home court advantage, I could give it to him. If he wanted me to give him a back massage or blow him, I probably would have done that too. We had to fix this. I knew that if we didn't, it would just keep getting worse and it would eventually divide us. My only wish was that I knew what it was that was separating us.

I sat down on the edge of his bed as he locked the door behind us. I had been in Edward's room numerous times, but had never really paid much attention to the décor. Most of the time my focus was usually on him, but this time I noticed several bongs along his top shelf. The shelf below it contained books and, sure enough, I spotted his copy of the sex positions book. Most of the others were about painters or art, but he did have a few classics. Edward rummaged through one of his drawers and pulled out a little tin. He handed it to me.

"Open it," he said when I hesitated. "You want to know, right?"

My breath caught in my throat. Did I want to know? Without hesitation, my brain and heart answered as one—yes. I wanted to know everything about him, good or bad, scary or amazing. I loved him even if I didn't always understand him or his motivations.

I removed the lid of the plain silver tin. And I felt tears sting in my eyes when I saw what was inside. I pushed the lid back on and swallowed the bile that was building up in my throat. Without realizing that I was doing, I clutched the tin tighter so that he couldn't take it back from me even though he wasn't trying to.

"Bella," he said softly, his voice cracking. From the way his breath hit my face, I knew that he was kneeling in front of me but my eyes were clenched so tight as I tried to forget what I had just seen.

A shiny, single-edged razor blade.

And as much as I wanted to pretend that it was for shaving, I knew that wasn't the case. I knew exactly what he used this razor blade for. And it scared the shit out of me. He had it here all the time. He told me that he hadn't cut in a long time, so why did he still have it? Why didn't he throw it away?

"I told you about it. But I didn't know how real it was to you. Maybe it would have been easier for you if they were somewhere that you could see," he mumbled.

I opened my eyes, still refusing to loosen my grip on the tin.

"You didn't see them last night when we had sex. And, honestly, that was for the best because they are kind of a buzz kill. Then, this morning…it just didn't feel like the right time to say, 'Want to see how I mutilated my body for three years?' Bella, it's pretty bad. And…and…fuck," Edward said quietly, unable to finish his sentence.

I swallowed. "And what?"

He pulled at his hair some more before resting his hands on my knees. "You love me. I can see that in your eyes. But, I don't want to see how you look at me after you see for yourself what I've done, what I'm capable of doing." He swallowed and panted a breath.

I held onto the tin with one hand, but with the other I played with his hair. And I cupped his cheek with my palm. As much as it hurt, I could understand his fears. But they were ridiculous. I would never look at him differently.

"I love you," I said quietly and he nodded. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. "I'm keeping the tin."

He nodded again.

"I want to see them." I didn't want to see them. I would probably cry when I saw what he did to himself. But I needed to. His pain wasn't real to me until I saw the blade.

"No, you don't," he replied shaking his head. "I don't want to see them. And I have to see them."

"Edward, I'm going to see them eventually unless you plan on withholding sex for the rest of our relationship. If you're not ready to show them to me, that's one thing. But don't refuse under the guise of protecting me."

He came and sat down on the bed next to me. He pulled off his shoes and socks. Then Edward unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped them. Carefully, he took them off.

He didn't say a word. He didn't even look like he was there with me. He faced forward, not squirming or fidgeting a single inch.

I took a breath and looked down at the scars that ran in perfect, little lines. My teeth clamped down, closing off my mouth and all the gasps and cries that wanted to escape. There were three evenly-space columns. And each had more lines than I wanted to count. Some on the scars were faded and almost invisible, the only sign that they were there being the empty space in an otherwise symmetrical and balanced pattern.

I let out a huge breath and climbed down onto the floor in front of him on my knees. My lips kissed along his scars. And I heard Edward gasp. I hadn't realized that he had his eyes closed the entire time, no doubt fearing my reaction. He pulled my face up.

"Don't," he said, his voice strained.

"I wish that I could take it all from you—the pain and the scars—and put them on myself so that you never had to feel it," I told him. "Do they hurt?"

He shook his head. "Not physically. But I don't exactly get chipper when I look at them."

Edward picked me up off the floor and laid me down beside him.

I gave him a peck on the lips. "I love you."

He nodded. "I love you too."

"I want you to be able to talk to me about this. If you hurt or if you want to cut. I may not understand exactly, but I am here and I care," my voice cracked.

He nodded. But it wasn't very reassuring.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Now that this chapter is finally written I can admit that it kicked my ass. Even though I had it outlined, I couldn't make it work and scrapped over a thousand words. But that was the best thing that I could have done, because it turned out a lot better than it would have. I actually like it now. Tell me what you think.

Things I don't own: Twilight, The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, Heineken, or Boo Berry.

* * *

It was a little after four AM when the door to Edward's bedroom creaked open and awakened me from my restless slumber. My boyfriend was snoring beside me so I knew it couldn't be him. I recognized her small form in the darkness. She had just gotten off work not that long ago; they all still refused to tell me what she did, but with a stage name like Mystic I had my suspicions.

She looked like she was shivering.

"Bella," she said as sadness dripped like tears through her voice.

"Yes, Alice?"

"Can I stay with you guys tonight?" To me Alice had always seemed delicate, fragile, but at that moment I was seriously concerned that she would completely fall apart.

"Yeah, of course."

I scooted toward the middle, pushing Edward to the far end of his bed. It was going to be a tight fit with three of us, but I could make it work. Edward stirred in his sleep, finally waking up after I had him where I wanted him so that Alice could lie down beside me. I was sandwiched in the middle between them.

"What's going on?" he said, clearly exhausted.

"Go back to sleep. Alice suggested a three-some, but since you're still withholding sex from me you don't get to join us." Alice laughed quietly.

"You guys have your own issues. Maybe I should go," she said quietly. Edward groaned.

"Stay. What's going on, Alice?" They both started shifting and invading the little space that I had. Edward spooned me, slinging his arm over my waist. Alice turned on her side so that she was facing us.

"Jasper left. And I can't sleep in his bed without him. It doesn't feel right."

What did she mean? Jasper left? For good? Where did he go? And she slept in his bed? Why did I not know that? Maybe because you are self-absorbed, dumbass.

"I'm sorry, Alice. You know he'll be back." I saw her nod next to me. "Until then you're welcome to stay with us," he told her.

That meant no sex for me. Uh. I didn't understand what the deal was now. I had seen the cuts, the scars, and still nothing. And the guy was so fuck-hot. Most of my day was spent containing the urge to rip all of his clothes off and mount him, which had become increasingly difficult since I started working at the gallery. Even though he was a pain in the ass most of the time, we had already established that arguing with him turned me on. It was like he was trying to torture me.

Alice giggled quietly and leaned closer to me. "Have patience," she whispered.

"I can't," I said, laughing nervously.

Edward sighed loudly and pulled me against his chest. "What are you guys giggling about?"

"Nothing," Alice and I answered at the same time.

"I hate when girls do that. It's annoying as fuck."

"I know something even more annoying," I replied, exasperated. "Sorry, Alice. We're not being very helpful. What do you need us to do?"

She snuggled up closer to me so that I really did feel the cheese or the bologna in their weirdness sandwich—temperamental and adorable on one side, psychic and mysterious on the other. "I'm just going to sleep. You guys should too. Drinking games tonight. It's supposed to be fun."

Both of them fell asleep easily enough, leaving me wide awake. I couldn't believe how long I had been living here. Or how I had possibly survived. These people were nuts. I felt like I was the only sane one in a house gone crazy. Crazies and weirdoes. That's what I had expected, right? I hadn't expected to love them though. This place felt like home. I had never felt like that in all the years with my mom. And my dad's world was just that, his. Here, with Alice and Edward and Emmett and even Jane, I felt like I had a family, one that drank exorbitant amounts of vodka and discussed each other's sex lives, but a family.

I was still up at eight when Edward's alarm went off, so I went straight to my room to get ready for work.

I had only worked at the gallery for a few days, but I loved it. Every single time I walked in it felt like the first warm spring day—the sun is shining and the birds are singing and nothing can go wrong. Being around Edward's art made me feel like I understood him a little better. When I wasn't writing or helping those that had come in, I would stand in front of a painting and stare at it for hours.

I rarely saw Edward during the day. My first day he ran out and bought us food from a nearby deli for lunch. But since then, we hadn't had lunch together. Still, walking to the gallery with him every morning was more than I had seen him when I worked at the diner.

"Are you ready?" Edward asked as he knocked on my partially opened door. I put my laptop and _The Picture of Dorian Gray_, my current read, into my oversized bag.

"Yep," I said as I walked out of the room and closed the door behind me. Edward took my hand and brought it to his lips. "How's Alice?"

"She's still asleep. She doesn't do well when Jasper leaves." I looked at him, curiosity getting the better of me.

"Why do you say it like that? When he leaves? Where did he go?"

His lips pursed together like he couldn't decide how much to tell me. I hoped for the honest truth. But I also understood that maybe it wasn't his secret to tell. "Jasper does this from time to time. Every few months he'll just disappear for a couple of days. And then he'll come back like nothing every happened. I don't know where he goes. I think that Alice does, but I've never asked."

"It must be difficult for her," I said as we stepped out into the morning air, "to not be with the man she loves."

He grunted quietly. "Why do I feel like we aren't talking about Jasper and Alice anymore?"

I brought my right hand up, the one that wasn't still latched on to his, and played with my hair. Another nervous habit. I had far too many of those.

"I don't know. Why do you feel that way?" I asked, turning on my impassive voice.

Edward sighed loudly. "I didn't even know that you thought I was withholding sex from you until your little comment last night. And, for the record, I'm not."

"Then why won't you sleep with me," I exclaimed a little too loudly. An old, creepy man who was walking in front of us turned around and ogled too long for my liking. Edward's too. He growled at the guy. Finally the man turned around and continued walking.

He spoke quietly in my ear, "Why was I not made aware of this issue before now?"

"It's been, like, five days since we had sex. And we're in the throes of young love. I thought you wanted to be with me," I said. He was confusing the shit out of me. He was making me feel like a freak for wanting to have sex with my boyfriend.

I looked up at Edward's face expecting anger or disappointment. I really did not expect to see him blushing. He so rarely did.

"I'm kind of new at this real relationship business. I didn't want to force myself on you every time I got horny because then we would never leave my bed. And no one ever informed me of how often couples have sex."

I felt my cheeks blushing too and hid my face in his arm. "I vote for more than once a week."

"So what do we do now? Do I take you behind the dumpster and have my way with you?" he joked smirking at me.

I ignored how much the idea of exhibitionism suddenly became very titillating.

I shook my head. "I want to have sex with you. Tonight."

Edward was completely quiet for several very long seconds, so I looked at him. His jaw was set. And his eyes were staring straight ahead. Except for his tightening grip on me and the fact that he was walking, he seemed frozen, locked in place.

Did I step over the line? No. There was no way. He had just mentioned taking me behind a dumpster. What I had said was tame in comparison.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"This is going to be the longest fucking day of my life. I hope you know that. I'm not going to be able to focus on anything else."

I smiled. "Smoke pot. Time perception is one of the first things to go when you're high." And then I re-thought that. "Actually, don't until after lunch. I have an art buyer coming in this morning. And he wants to meet you."

"I hate art buyers. That's why I hired you to deal with them." He groaned. Edward hadn't been lying when he said that sometimes he was a little mean to people who wanted to purchase his paintings. I think that it was because he was so attached to his art that he couldn't stand to let it go. Everything was deeply personal to him and giving it up was difficult for him.

I patted his arm gently. "You just have to say hello and pretend that you don't hate the world. Can you do that, babe?"

He glared playfully at me. "I think I can manage a simple greeting."

"We'll see."

"What will you give me if I can?" Edward smiled wide and lifted his eyebrows up. Fuck, he was hot when he was excited.

"Um, the check from the sale?" I replied as I played with the hem of my shirt.

"No, really." I laughed knowing that if he was this insistent that he could easily win the bet.

"If you can be polite and civil and not make one sarcastic comment the entire time, then I'll blow you." Edward coughed twice.

"Okay. Deal."

I soon learned that the promise of fellatio could turn Edward from grumbling and brooding into a charming motherfucker. He stayed downstairs the entire time the art buyer was there, explaining his works and his medium and his inspiration. And then he even helped the guy to carry a few of the pieces that he bought out to his vehicle.

I listened to him stunned the entire time. My knees nearly gave out when he gave his half-smile and lightly pulled at his hair. So sexy. And I was actually happy when he won the bet. It meant that he sold his art, which meant we were both actually getting paid. And it meant more fun for us that night.

As soon as the art guy left, Edward went upstairs and didn't come back down until eight when it was time for us to go. He sighed and pulled off his glasses as he walked down the stairs, rubbing his eyes. He didn't speak actual words, just a few grunts and groans that let me know that we were leaving.

I gathered up my crap and threw it in my big bag, before putting it on my shoulder and walking to the door. Edward locked the big gallery doors behind us. And then he hailed a cab. Normally, he walked back to the building. But that was before I started working with him. He was terrified of letting me walk at night, even if he was there to protect me, and I wasn't in the mood to fight over it.

We didn't speak at all the entire cab ride. He put his arm around my shoulders and I leaned into him enjoying our brief trip. Whether I wanted to or not, I was growing accustomed to his mood patterns. I knew that he always needed about thirty minutes or a bottle of Heineken before he was ready to talk to me after being at the gallery or else an argument would erupt. He was usually really sweet and flirty in the morning. But he was at his absolute best right after lunch. That was my favorite time to spend with him when I had the chance.

"Whose day is it?" he asked as we stepped out of the cab. It surprised me.

"Jane," I answered. He grimaced. "Alice said it was supposed to be fun." By the look on his face, I suspected that he doubted her for maybe the first time ever. He always seemed so confident in Alice's visions, but apparently that didn't include Jane. Personally, I was growing more and more fond of Jane, even if we weren't that close when I first moved in. She didn't judge and she was almost normal.

"We're not playing tonight," he said to Jane as we walked in. This was news to me, but I kept my mouth shut and followed him upstairs, trying to ignore Emmett's crude comments alluding to what we were doing instead of drinking.

"We're not playing tonight?" I asked curiously.

Edward laughed quietly to himself. "Well, you and I are playing tonight. We just aren't playing with the others."

I dropped my bag just inside of Edward's room and heard as he locked the door. He never locked his door. Ever. Anyone could come in at anytime. But I suppose that he didn't what this interrupted. Neither did I.

I sat on the edge of his bed and took off my shoes and socks before pulling off my jacket. Then I crawled up Edward's bed and waited for him to join me. Just a few seconds later he removed his shoes and put them by mine. He fell back onto the mattress with a soft thud.

"Is it awkward that we planned this?" I asked, feeling a sudden intense pressure for this to be amazing sex.

He turned over onto his stomach and looked at me, his forehead rippled with worry. "Do you feel awkward about this?"

"Not awkward so much as anxious. Excited. A little nervous." Edward grabbed the remote to his stereo and turned on some classical music. I suppose to ease my nerves, but classical music had always kind of keyed me up. I decided that I needed to just let go of my worry and let what was going to happen occur.

Edward grabbed the belt loops of my jeans and pulled me closer to him in an aggressive move. I liked it. He kept his hands firmly on my hips and, in an apparent paradox, his lips made light kisses along my neck and jaw. I sighed in contentment.

His lips eventually found my own and moved slowly against them. Our pace wasn't hurried or rushed like the night of my birthday. This was a completely different Edward than the one that had ravaged me in a frenzy against his living room wall. This Edward was patient and thoughtful with each kiss as if trying to express a different sentiment. I loved both. But all I could focus on was how he gently sucked on my bottom lip.

I sighed when he pulled away briefly, but it was only long enough to lift me on top of him. I was worried that all my weight would smash him, but he didn't seem to care if I was. His hands held my face in place as he began to kiss with a little more intensity than before. I was all too willing to keep up with the pace that he had set.

For a while it was just kissing, but I loved it. I relished in the feeling of his lips on mine, his tongue in my mouth, how his breath mingled with mine. Edward's hands started to inch up my shirt. He tickled along the sensitive skin and I thrashed against him, making him moan.

He rolled us back over and placed his body between my legs, propping himself up on his elbows. "Can I?" He fingered the hem of my t-shirt. I nodded and helped him to pull it off. Even though we had already had sex, Edward hadn't seen my boobs. It was a weird feeling to be nervous about him seeing me in a bra when he still hadn't given back my panties.

"You have to take off your shirt too."

Edward laughed, but obliged my request. He leaned back on his knees and unbuttoned his blue plaid shirt slowly. Then he leaned back down and kissed along my collarbone and down my sternum as his hands brushed against my ribs. His lips sucked at the hollow at the base of my throat and I moaned quietly.

I propped myself up on my elbows. "What are you doing?" he asked, but instead of answer him with words, I showed him with my actions.

I reached behind me and unclasped my bra. His breathing hitched as he comprehended the situation. I reclined back to the bed with the bra still covering me. That didn't last long. The second that I was comfortable, Edward's hand brushed against my arm and pulled the strap down farther. He repeated that with the strap on the other shoulder. His fingers made goose bumps bubble up on my arms and wetness pool between my thighs.

The birthday sex had been incredible, the best I had ever had, but this time was different—better in many ways. I was more aroused, more aching for any touch. And we were both still half-dressed. Nothing was hurried; everything was deliberate, intentional.

Edward's hand finally made a move to remove the bra. He tossed it to the side of his bed. And then his hands were back on me. His left thumb brushed against my already erect nipple. I was so focused on his efforts with the left that I didn't even realized that his mouth was hovering over the right until he took it into his mouth and sucked. My fingers reached for the nape of Edward's neck, feeling the tiny hairs there, and held him in place.

He moved over to the other nipple giving it the same treatment. My breathing became more haggard as I pressed my hips up to meet his, desperate for friction. I could feel him through the fabric of his pants. He was already hard for me. Edward moaned and pushed his hips more firmly into mine, giving me another taste of that delicious friction.

"On your back," I ordered. Edward smiled wide and immediately lay down flat on the bed with his arms folded behind his head.

I scrambled to my knees and reached for the button of his jeans, quickly removing it and unzipping them. Edward raised his hips from the bed so that I could pull them down. And I figured that while I was there, I might as well remove his boxers too. They found their rightful place on the floor.

Before Edward could say a word, I had crawled between his legs. My eyes never left his as I lowered my mouth to kiss along his chest and abdomen. I kissed along his hip bones and down his thighs. My lips found his scars as I kissed them all. They were painful to look at, but they were a part of him. Edward didn't even breathe until I sat back up on my knees.

"Bella," Edward started to say, but I lowered my head to his throbbing shaft, licking from the base to the tip where a bead of pre-cum had formed.

"What was that, babe?" I asked. He shook his head as he fisted the sheets tightly.

"Continue," he replied in his sexy, pained voice.

"Continue what?" I asked. Edward growled. "Tell me what you want, baby, and I'll be happy to give it to you."

He released an erratic sigh. "I want your pretty little mouth wrapped around my cock."

Holy fuck. My body ached for him. And the lack of friction was about to send me into overload, but he had won the bet so he got whatever he wanted.

I took the head of his cock in my mouth and sucked gently while my right hand very slowly pumped him. Edward growled again and every single time he did I became wetter. My hand left his shaft and I took as much of him in my mouth as I could. As I pulled away, I ran my tongue along the underside. I did this a few times, managing to take a little more each time until he hit the back of my throat.

Edward had wrapped his fingers in my hair after the second time taking him in, but he used them to pull me away. He pushed me onto my back and started to remove my jeans. "Why did you stop me?" I asked breathlessly.

He pulled my pants off and my panties. "I want to cum inside of you."

I don't know where the condom came from, but Edward pulled it from the wrapper and put it on quickly. He lined himself up with me. Then he looked into my eyes. I nodded quickly and near-instantly felt him enter me.

My fingers dug into his strong shoulders as we created a rhythm—my hips and his hips, my body and his. We moved as one being. Our breaths and gasps and moans collected in the air and became indistinguishable. The tempo and our mounting pleasure escalated. I wrapped my legs around his waist, changing the angle and making us both groan.

My toes were tingling and my stomach felt like it was on fire. Edward gasped. "I'm so close, Bella."

"Me," I said but failing to finish the sentence because of a moan as he reached between us to work my clit. "Me too."

My whole body started to tingle and sparks shot through my veins. I felt my body shudder. And I mouthed, "Edward."

He grunted and growled and half a thrust later he released in me. Edward pulled out and threw the condom in the little trash can. Then he came back and pulled me to his chest. I kissed his tattoo.

"I definitely vote more than once a week. How about every day?" Edward said a minute later and I laughed.

"Are you sure that I'm not going to wear you out like that?" I joked.

He smirked. "I have incredible stamina."

"I know you do."

I snuggled into him and I felt his grip on me tighten. "I love you, Bella. And I'm not just saying that because we had sex. I love you. I don't know what I would do without you."

"I love you too."

I fell asleep in his arms and when I woke up the next morning he wasn't there. I climbed out of bed and pulled on a pair of his clean, black boxers and one of his white v-neck shirts. Then I left the safety of his room to go find him.

While I was on the steps for the first floor I heard the blender going and Emmett groan loudly. Edward snickered quietly. "You shouldn't have done so many Stoli shots. You would think that you would know your limit by now."

I crept down the stairs trying to be quiet.

"Do you remember that party that I threw when I was a senior and you were a sophomore? We both got so wasted. And the house was trashed," Em said with a small, pained laugh.

It was the first conversation that I had heard them have about their past. It may have been the first civil conversation that I had heard between them at all. I constantly forgot that they were brothers because they were so different and never talked.

"Yeah," Edward replied, something like happiness in his voice. "You got in so much trouble when mom and dad found out."

I continued to walk down the stairs, not wanting to interrupt, but sucking at being a spy. I was always found out. Edward smiled when he saw me and Emmett chuckled to himself.

"Then Dad made us banana milkshakes to cure the hangovers. Love them. It's like a miracle cure," Em said. Bananas to cure hangovers. He had gotten that from his dad. That's why he always gave me one when I had been drinking. "What did he say was in them that made it work?"

Edward put his arm around my waist. "Potassium and B6." Then he pressed the button for the blender again once. "I think it's ready."

Emmett nodded. "I knew you'd remember. Just like you how you remembered the recipe." Edward poured him a glass of the banana milkshake, which Em greedily drank. "Still as good as I remember it." Edward re-filled his glass.

"Pace yourself or you're going to end up puking it everywhere," he said tracing the edge of his glasses.

Em ignored him and looked at me. "Good morning, Boo Berry, you and Edward look like you had more fun with your game than we did with ours." I looked down and the kitchen floor as my cheeks turned scarlet.

"Can you please not embarrass her?" Edward scolded, sounding more like the parent instead of the younger brother. I felt like their relationship had probably always been that way with Edward being more straight-laced than Em.

"No, Edward, it's fine," I said. "My attire is a pretty clear indicator that something happened last night."

Em smiled. "How was it? And don't just be polite because he's here. If he's bad, I need to know so that I can give him the birds and bees talk again." Edward put his hands over his ears.

"Oh, god, please don't. Yours was worse than the one that dad tried to give me and he had pictures."

I giggled in happiness that I wasn't the only one scarred by a sex talk. I bit my bottom lip. "You don't need to talk to him. Edward knows exactly what he's doing to bring me to ecstasy." My boyfriend growled and kissed me softly.

"You look so sexy. Let's go back upstairs and leave Emmett to his hangover."

I nodded and ran back up the stairs with him following behind me.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Another EPOV. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Some secrets being revealed. Some new drama. Some old drama. Fun times. Tell me what you think.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, Catch-22, Nightmare Before Christmas, or Tarzan.

* * *

He had always been there for me for as long as I could remember. He was my big brother, my protector. I remember when I was in third grade and this other kid, Darren Davis, would always pick on me because I was a little weird. I hated playing kickball or football with the other guys, but instead spent most of my recess hiding out beneath a park bench drawing pictures of superheroes. I wasn't cool; I was lanky and thin and had huge, awful glasses, so he became my personal nightmare. And when Em found out that he was torturing me, he broke Darren's arm. No one really messed with me after that.

Emmett and I, we were never really best friends because we were so different that it became impossible to relate to the other's world. I didn't understand the allure of homecoming games or dating the vapid prom queen, just like he couldn't understand why I would take a bus over three hundred miles by myself to visit the MOMA. But, even with all of our differences, he still did his best to shield me from the big, bad world. And it worked. For a time.

Then the world got bigger and badder and Emmett couldn't protect me anymore, so I had to protect myself.

"How is your relationship with your brother?" she asked.

Therapy. I think it was invented by people with high self-esteem so that they could slyly mock those of us who have low self-esteem. What's worse than coming into a room every week to work through your issues and knowing that you weren't strong enough to deal with them yourself? Therapy is like a Catch-22 for those without confidence.

I sighed and sat back in the squeaky, leather chair. I didn't like leather. It reminded me of the couch in my parent's bedroom and how I used to jump on it on Saturday mornings to wake them up so that we could go get breakfast.

"We spoke. I suppose it's progress." I shrugged. It wasn't like that one conversation was going to lead to hugging and family photos.

"And do you think that this girl you are dating, Bella, has anything to do with that?" she asked as she penciled in some notes in my folder.

"I'm sure that she has everything to do with it." I honestly believed that. Emmett adored Bella—I could see that easily enough—and she was fond of him as well. It didn't make sense in my mind and I often found it difficult to reconcile. Em was my past; Bella was my present and hopefully my future.

"You've told her about cutting?"

What a pleasant conversation that was. "She knows, yeah. And she knows that I come to see you." I brushed my fingers through my hair.

"Why do you say it like that?" she doodled down some more crap about me.

I sighed again in annoyance. She did things like this from time to time that always made me question myself. Had I meant something else than what I originally said? Or was she reading too much into it?

"I…I don't," I stuttered while trying to find the right words. "I'm not really sure that she completely understands my issues and I'm happy about that."

"You're happy that she doesn't understand?"

I took off my glasses and cleaned them with my shirt, remembering how my mom had always told me that I would scratch them if I did that. "The only way that Bella could understand the urge to cut is if she had experienced it herself. So, yeah, I'm fucking delighted that she doesn't understand."

When I made it back to the gallery with a bag of food from the deli down the street in my hand, Bella smiled tentatively at me. She knew where I had been. She was beginning to realize how fucked up I really was. But she still hadn't deserted me; Bella still looked at me with love and it scared the hell out of me. I was going to mess up eventually—that was just a fact of life—and I knew that after that she would never look at me the same again.

"Did you bring me lunch?" she asked sweetly. I nodded. "Thank you so much. I'm starving. Can we eat in the lounge?"

"Yeah." The lounge was really just a couch and a coffee table in a little room, but I followed her there. The second that I sat the food down at the coffee table, she had her arms around my waist. I heard her sigh.

"I missed you."

I laughed once. "I was only gone two hours."

"Are you saying you didn't miss me?" Bella asked with a cheeky smile.

I leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "Every second."

"Great answer," said as she pulled away from me and started rummaging in the bag for her food. She grabbed what she wanted, the exact things that I had picked out for her—turkey and swiss on wheat and a bag of baked potato chips. I suppose that it was good that I knew her well enough to know what she actually liked.

We ate in relative silence, which I realized was selfish on my part. But I just never felt like talking after going to therapy. I always felt kind of empty and Bella was good to me. She understood my insane mood swings better than I understood hers. After we finished eating, she crawled into my lap and put my arms around her.

"I love you," she said quietly.

It made my breath catch every time she said it because I knew that she really meant it. My arms tightened around her. "You are my life now."

After sitting there on the couch for several minutes, Bella hopped up and kissed me on the cheek. She went back to writing at the massive, oversized desk that I had set up. And I went upstairs to paint, even though I felt like shit and knew that I wouldn't get anything accomplished. Just because I was going to be lazy and unmotivated, didn't mean that I had to drag Bella down with me. She had a meeting with her advisor in a few days that she was stressing over, and she had just decided to re-write a crucial chapter.

So I hid away in my tower, turned on some chill music, and lit up. I was going to need something to make it through the Halloween party tonight. It was Rosalie's idea. I voted no. Bella said yes. She said something about not being anti-social and hiding myself away from everyone, but I knew that she had meant hiding from Emmett. Bella hated Rose almost as much as I did.

The last considerable amount of time that I had spent with the gold-digging, psycho bitch was another Halloween party last year. And that was only because I lost a bet to Alec and had to dress up as a smurf. He and Jane double-teamed me so there was no chance of winning.

And now I had to go home and dress up as Jack Skellington from _Nightmare Before Christmas_. At least Bella, dressed as Sally, would be by my side as I drank enough Stoli to kill an average person. She would probably have to nurse me back to health tomorrow.

While still buzzed, I took the time to write out my father's recipe for banana milkshakes in case it came to that.

Then I looked at my watch and realized that we were supposed to be home by now helping get the place set up. Rosalie had invited a bunch of people from her acting classes. And Em had invited some other accountants. I think even Jane and Alec had invited some people. This meant that I would be chilling with Bella, Jasper, and Alice the entire evening.

It had been weeks since Jasper disappeared and then re-appeared. He had done it before so I wasn't worried, but Bella was. I figured that with time she would grow accustomed to the insanity and chaos. Or maybe if she knew some of the secrets she would be able to relax and understand that we could take care of ourselves, that we had all been taking care of ourselves for a while. Probably not though.

I tucked the recipe in my pocket before walking over to the little mirror hanging near my cot and putting Visine in so that I would look semi-normal. Rosalie was sure to bitch at me if anything ruined her dumbass party. The smell on my clothes was going to be bad enough for her without the red eyes.

I floated down the stairs hoping that I remembered all the shit that I needed. Bella was packing up her stuff and put it all in this massive bag that she carried around. The thing was so big that she could probably hop in it and I could carry her around. She threw the bag on her shoulder, but I quickly removed it and put it on mine. It was only a little after six, so I decided that we could walk back even though it was a little chilly. The cold air would do me good.

She took my hand and swung it back and forth excitedly as we walked home. For some unknown reason, Bella wanted to go to this party. This is the girl that hates parties; she prefers being up in her room curled up with a good book or me. I'm the one that usually liked parties—alcohol, dancing, recreational drug use—but I wanted Bella all to myself, preferably with her on top.

Bella leaned closer to me and smelled my shirt unabashedly. Then she chuckled to herself. "Are you trying to piss Rose off by showing up late and high? Because I'm pretty sure that it will work."

"She is capable of finding fault with anyone. God Almighty could come down from Heaven and Rosalie would find something to bitch about."

"That's true." She smiled at me and I stared in wonder. Bella was so beautiful and she really didn't see it. "So, why did you choose for us to dress up as Jack and Sally?"

I smiled quickly. It was my only prerequisite. "You're not going to like one of the reasons. But the main one is that _Nightmare Before Christmas_ kicks ass and I love that movie."

Bella shrugged. "I've never seen it. My parents said that it was too scary when I was little," she said as I stared at her in disbelief. Then her eyes narrowed. "What's the reason that I'm not going to like?"

As soon as I told her, she was going to call me misogynic and outmoded and domineering. And sometimes it sucked to date a writer who knew five million adjectives to describe your current attitude. But most of the time it was really hot to see big words roll off her tongue as if they were nothing.

"I wanted everyone to know that you were mine."

"Because Sally belongs with Jack?" I nodded. "And Jack belongs with Sally?"

"Undoubtedly," I replied and gave her a quick peck on the lips.

"And I'm supposed to be mad about this?" she asked curiously.

I smiled. "I think you'll probably get upset when I don't let go of you the entire night."

Bella looked down and giggled. "When have I ever complained about that? Never. I love when you hold me."

"Good," I said. That was going to be the plan then.

Of course the second that we got home Rosalie was in full bitch mode and we had to help move couches around. And then Bella got sent across the room to move all of the kitchen chairs from around the table. Rose made a comment about Bella scratching her table and I heard from across the room. And I kind of snapped on her.

"It's not your table. It will never be your table for as long as I am alive," I said.

Rosalie rolled her eyes and played with her hair. "You left before getting your share of the estate, Edward."

"It doesn't matter, bitch. You weren't in the will." I hated her. That's all she was after—my parent's money and the last name. And I would be damned before I let her take my parent's dining room table too.

I remembered clearly when she and Emmett had moved in. And I saw the table again. It was like drowning in an ocean full of memories—Sunday dinners, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and every other celebration. And I could just imagine my parents sitting in their familiar spots, but when I looked up they weren't there. It all came crashing down again.

"Everything that is Emmett's is mine."

"Not until you convince him to cut off his balls and actually marry you," I replied. I felt Bella squeeze my hand and try to pull me away but I wouldn't budge. It had been a while since I had a blowout with Rosalie. Why not now?

"He already proposed, Space Monkey." I hated that fucking nickname. She had used it since the first time she had met me, as if she knew anything about me. I hated her from the moment I saw her—pretentious, plastic, and pompous. I hated everything about her, but Em loved her so I kept my mouth shut until Ethan.

"He proposed four years ago. Don't you think that if he really wanted to marry you that he would have done it by now?"

"Edward," I heard Emmett say loudly, obviously disappointed at my last statement. It was probably all that he had heard because he was only now starting to loosen his tie which meant that he had just walked in the door.

Call me vicious, but I knew it was where Rose was vulnerable. It was the thing I had heard them arguing about the most. Rosalie wanted to be married by now. And Em still wasn't ready. Maybe it was a dick move, but it was the only ammunition I had.

I stared at Em for several seconds and he just shook his head at me the way that Dad did on the rare occasion that I was late for curfew or got a C on a math test. And for the first time in over half a decade, I felt like I was being scolded, like I was a kid. He looked disappointed.

Bella squeezed my hand again. I lowered my head and walked toward the stairs. I felt like shit. Rosalie I couldn't possibly care less about, but Em…Despite all of our hang ups and bad decisions, he was my brother. I dropped Bella off in her room to get changed, while I went to mine and pulled on my costume.

She knocked on my door a few minutes later completely ready; she looked adorable. It took a little longer for me, but I finally got my mouth drawn on and my eyes blackened. Bella sat on my bed and waited for me the entire time. When I was done, I reached for her hand to pull her to her feet, but she pulled down to get me to sit beside her. By the small frown on her lips, I knew what the issue was. I had disappointed her too. I was such a fuck-up today.

I gulped. "I'm not going to apologize to her."

"I never asked you to," she replied quietly.

I brushed my fingers through my hair. It had been my worst day in a long time. I hated this feeling that was bubbling to the surface, the feeling that I did my best to suppress. It was beginning to burn and I could feel my pulse.

"Fine," I said, craving any comfort to dispel the anxiety I was feeling. "I'll apologize."

"I never said you had to."

I swallowed again. "No, but I hate feeling like a failure in your eyes." I stood up, but she grabbed my arm tightly and forced me to sit back down. If I really wanted to, I could have easily broken her grip, but I didn't.

She climbed into my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck. "You will never be a failure in my eyes. Don't ever think that it is even capable for me to see you in that way." She said the words to contradict, but the idea was already burrowed in my brain and I couldn't just disregard it. I nodded. "I love you."

I didn't know why, but the words couldn't sit right. "I love you," I said.

"Let's go."

We went down to the party and I ignored the Heineken and went straight for the vodka. Alec, dressed as a fireman, found us just as I slammed my first shot back. He poured us all one. He said that it was a celebration.

"What are we celebrating?" Bella asked.

"I'm leaving the escort business," he said with a huge smile on his face.

"Why?" I asked curiously. Alec made good money. And he got paid to have sex. Why on earth would he give that shit up?

"I want a real life—wife, kids, picket fence, crappy nine-to-five job. And I can't see a way to live both ways. Plus, I don't think the future wifey would approve."

Bella smiled. "I'm happy for you." I nodded as a sign of agreement.

"Thanks," he replied and took his shot so I did as well. "Have fun."

The place was packed with people milling about and dancing. I hardly recognized anyone, but the fact that everyone was in costumes probably didn't help. My grip on Bella never loosened as we searched the crowds. It was a good five minutes before we found Alice and Jasper sitting together on a couch in a quiet corner. Neither of them was dressed up. It made me wonder how they had gotten away with that or if Rose had seen, because she would surely blow a gasket.

I sat down on the other side of Alice, pulling Bella down into my lap.

"How are you guys?" Bella asked.

Jasper smiled at her and said that he was good. Alice looked absent for a few seconds before locking eyes with Bella. Both girls frowned.

"I don't like this holiday. I never know if I should celebrate or not celebrate. I feel like a failure either way, so I'm trying to be neutral or be all-inclusive and do both—celebrate and not celebrate—but it's not working. I'm failing. Again. It's their ideas and my ideas and I can't reconcile them," Alice said in a quiet rant.

Bella held out her hand for Alice and squeezed it gently. "Whose ideas?"

"My parents. Halloween is evil. The devil's day. That's what they said; it's what they told me when I was young, just a little girl. Small. Before. It was before everything else happened, but I remember. I remember that Halloween is bad and that we shouldn't celebrate it. Then I found out that I was bad too. Bad like Halloween." I swallowed. I had heard her story before but it was still disturbing every time. My mind was incapable of comprehending what he parents had done to her.

"Alice, you don't have to," Jasper said quietly.

She shook her head back and forth furiously. "No. Bella needs to know." Alice turned to look at me. "You can't keep secrets from the people you love. They'll destroy you."

I stared at her for a few seconds, freaked out. What secrets did she mean? Who was I hiding them from? What did she know that I didn't?

"I'm bad like Halloween, so they hid me away like winter clothes in the middle of summer. I wasn't even seven yet but I could see it all happening before it happened. And that's why I'm bad. Evil. And that's why they hid me from everyone, to protect them all from me. But they couldn't hide me forever. I saw Chicago. I saw Edward. I saw Jasper. And I saw you, Bella. I saw home," she said, smiling a very fragile smile. "I didn't tell them, but somehow they knew. And they sent me to a marble castle and a bad man. And they pinned me down and locked my wrists and feet and they kept me there shocking me and hitting me until I was terrified to open my eyes."

Bella wiped her eyes with the hand that wasn't fully gripped to Alice. And I swallowed again. I looked over at Jasper and he was staring blankly at the floor. He always took it worse than I did. He was in love with her; he never said it, but he never needed to for me to know. It was painfully obvious. And, if something like that had ever happened to Bella, I wasn't sure I would know how to react either.

"They said Halloween was bad and you say it's not bad. They said I was bad and you say I'm not."

"You're not," Jasper said through gritted teeth. And then he took a breath. "You're not," he repeated a little more softly.

I spotted Emmett dressed up as Tarzan and knew that I had to talk to him before I even thought about talking to Rosalie. She was sure to bite my head off, guests or not, but maybe if I apologized to Em first she would chill out at least a little bit. I doubted it, but I felt like shit about what had gone down and I need to fix it soon or else my life would turn into a real nightmare.

I gripped Bella's hips and stood up, whispering that I would be right back. She took my seat next to Alice and never let go of her hand. And I dived back into the crowds looking for Em where I had just seen him. It was too difficult to find Emmett—he was tall, built, and wearing only a cheetah-print loin cloth.

He was standing with Rosalie on the stairs and they were arguing quietly.

"What do you mean? He's seen the pictures of Ethan? We agreed never to show him," Rosalie spat. I recognized myself as the 'he.'

"No, Rosie," Em replied. "You declared that at the hospital when you were in labor and haven't listened to a word I've said about it since then. He's my brother. He deserves to see pictures of his nephew."

I made a mental note to thank Emmett for standing up for me. And for giving me copies of all of Ethan's pictures since birth. He was really risking a lot by doing that and I had never once thanked him.

"Yes, he's your brother, but I'm your fiancée. What happens when the baby comes? Who are you going to put first then?"

"Baby?" I asked, a little too loudly. I meant to say it to myself, but Emmett heard me and turned around. He looked like he was trapped between a rock and a hard place. I only wondered which one I was. "Are you keeping it?" My voice got exponentially quieter and I wondered if he had even heard me.

"Yeah, we're keeping it," Em replied just as softly.

I couldn't explain it. It wasn't just anger or just fear or just disappointment. It was like every emotion that I had ever felt coursing through my body and taking over. I ran my hands through my hair for the millionth time that day. And then I walked outside to let the cool Chicago air calm me.

But it didn't work.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Short chapter. Very important chapter. Very difficult chapter. Tell me how it is.

Also, The lines in italics are from "The Hollow Men" by T.S. Eliot.

Disclaimer: I don't Twilight or T.S. Eliot.

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There was a change, a shift, in him—in all of us really, if I was honest—after that night. The secrets spread like seventh grade gossip that night. Alec. Alice. Emmett. Rose. It was like a wildfire and we were all caught up in it. There was no fire escape for us to run to. All that we could do was stand there, huddled together, as the fire consumed us. And some of us were more eager for the smell of burnt flesh than others.

_In this last of meeting places  
We grope together  
And avoid speech_

While I clung tighter to Alice and Jasper trying to sort out the information that she had revealed to me and make it coherent, while Rosalie and Emmett solidified their relationship, while Jane and Alec celebrated the start of a new life, while we all groped together, he pushed away. And it frightened me. I had seen Edward angry; I had seen him sad and upset. But this was different.

He disappeared for half the night without so much as a word to me after promising that he wasn't going to leave my side. All I got from Alice were frowns and wrinkled foreheads, but no explanation. He left me on a couch to go find his brother and then nothing.

And then everything.

Rosalie was pregnant. And Edward had overheard. And he left.

As if Emmett and Rosalie and one child weren't enough to devastate him, another kid was thrown into the mix. Another possible family member to be taken from him. Quite obviously, he wasn't taking the news very well. It hurt that he didn't come straight to me seeking comfort, but I knew that wasn't Edward. He was going to need some time to process this; I was sure he would come back to me when he was ready. But I had hoped that it would be before five AM when he stumbled into his bedroom noisily, waking me from my restless slumber.

I studied his face, looking for a sign of emotion but saw emptiness. The black paint around his eyes was smudged across his face. Besides that, nothing. "Go back to sleep, Bella. I'm going to take a shower," he said in an authoritative tone. He grabbed some clothes from his dresser and closet and left.

I was so happy that he was alive that I didn't make one comment about him being controlling or bossy. I lay in his bed for nearly an hour as I waited for him to come back. I didn't really expect him to talk to me, but I needed to hold him, to comfort him in any way that I could. He came back into the room, toweling his chaotic hair. Edward was fully dressed and just grabbed a jacket from his closet, throwing it over his clothes.

"You can have the day off. I'm just going to head up to the gallery for a bit," he said, no vocal inflection, no emotion. I didn't like this. I didn't like when he was like this.

"I'll go with you," I said as I started to get out of bed.

He held up his hands. "No, it's fine. I just want to paint for a little bit by myself." The frown lines on his face and the way he closed his eyes in desperation brought tears to my eyes.

"Okay," I relented and then swallowed. "I love you with all of my heart, Edward."

He panted out a breath. "I love you," he whispered so quietly that I only knew that he said it by reading his lips as he walked out of the room.

_Between the idea  
And the reality  
Between the motion  
And the act  
Falls the Shadow_

I sat frozen on his bed for a few minutes as time gathered like ripples in a pond around me. Everything felt wrong. It wasn't paranoia or anxiety. There was something seriously fucked up happening and I was incapable of helping the people that I loved mend this situation. All I knew was that I had to get up, that getting out of this bed was at least stepping in a direction, whether it was right or not didn't matter so much as this point.

_Between the conception  
And the creation  
Between the emotion  
And the response  
Falls the Shadow_

I walked to my bedroom and found the door unlocked. I knew for a fact that I had locked it last night because I didn't want some horny couple ending up in my bed. But the door was unlocked, so I knew instantly who had unlocked it. My only question was what he had been doing in my room. Was he looking for something? That question frightened me. Did he find what he was looking for? That one scared me even worse.

I went instantly to my dresser and pulled open the bottom drawer, the one where I kept all of my winter sweaters and things that I hadn't needed when I first moved it. It was a drawer full of things that had been useless to me. And that's where I had hidden his tin. Nothing looked like it had been moved or misplaced, but that didn't placate me. Edward could be meticulous, precise, when he wanted to be. I pulled everything from the drawer and threw it on my bed.

The tin was missing.

I was pissed and terrified and numb and devastated. I pulled on jeans and a t-shirt. And then a jacket and shoes. And I took off.

_Between the desire  
And the spasm  
Between the potency  
And the existence  
Between the essence  
And the descent  
Falls the Shadow  
__For Thine is the Kingdom_

I ran all the way to his gallery, my legs cramping and my lungs burning with the cold November air. But I didn't stop. I could not stop. I barely noticed the disapproving looks of the people I shoved past on the sidewalk. My body knew where it needed to be and it got me there at a speed that I didn't even know was possible.

I skidded to a stop in front of the gallery door, only to find it locked. I pounded my hand furiously on the door. I knocked until my fingers and palm were red in pain.

And then he pulled open the door.

"Where is it?" I demanded, pushing past him to step inside. He didn't answer immediately, choosing to instead close the gallery door.

"Where is what?" he asked, not making eye contact.

"Edward, where the fuck is it? I'm not playing." My voice started to shake and lips quivered like I was cold. "Just…just tell me where it is. Give me the tin and I'll forget that all of this just happened."

"Bella," he said quietly. His voice broke my heart. It was a mixture between an admission of guilt and pure unbridled pain.

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the small, thin tin. Edward tried to hand it to me, but I noticed something else about his jeans. A blood spot on his thigh. I took the tin and checked inside for the blade. It was there. And it was still bloody.

"Fuck," I said as I threw my hand over my mouth. I felt like I was going to puke; my stomach was in knots. And the tears felt like venom in my eyes because they stung so badly.

"Bella." He took a step toward me and I instinctively took a step back.

"Edward, I love you so much. I don't think you understand how much it kills me to see you like this, to see you hurting this badly. I don't understand how cutting can you feel better, but if it works for you, then it works for me." I only barely registered what I was saying.

I opened the tin again. And I took out the blade, wiping it clean on my jeans.

Edward understood before I did what I was about to do. "Don't do this. Stop, Bella. Don't…I can't let you cut yourself."

"Don't you understand yet?" I asked, sniffling to try to get the tears to go away. It didn't workd. "Every time you hurt this badly, I hurt too. When you are in pain, I'm in pain. And every time you cut yourself, you're cutting me too. You and I are one."

"Put the blade away," he pleaded. "I can't watch you do this to yourself for my mistakes."

I looked up and he met my eyes for the first time. His beautiful green eyes were marred with indescribable pain as tears dripped down his cheeks. I felt a sob choke my throat as I put the blade back in the tin and dropped it on the floor. The clatter was barely audible in my ear, because my cries grew louder as I wrapped my arms around him tighter than I ever had.

I held onto him for fear that he would disappear again. My tears stained his thin t-shirt. He ran his fingers through my hair delicately. And he kept whispering that he was sorry, that he never knew how much it would hurt me.

It could have been minutes or hours or days. Time passed. And I finally let my arms slide away from him and rest at my side. "We need to get your cut cleaned up so that it doesn't get infected."

He nodded and we went upstairs to the little bathroom there. He pulled off his jeans and I cleansed the cut. It was painful to look at. Looking at the others had been a bit overwhelming. Seeing a fresh one, that killed me a little inside, because I knew that it couldn't have occurred too much before I had shown up or else he would have had time to clean it and the blade himself. If I had been a little quicker, I could have stopped him.

After I covered the new cut with a Band-Aid, I brought my lips to his leg and kissed it like I had kissed all of the others. Then I stood back to my feet. He pulled up his jeans and stared off into space as he zipped and buttoned them.

His Adam's apple became even more prominent as he gulped. "I won't…" Edward huffed in frustration. "I don't want to make a promise I can't keep, Bella. I don't want to cut—it's not about wanting it. And I don't want to hurt you."

"Then don't," I said. But I knew that it wasn't that easy.

"I'm not going to hurt you anymore. I'll do everything in my power to keep from hurting you like this ever again."

"I love you," I replied, not knowing what else to say.

He put a hand on either side of my face. His eyes pierced mine for several long, intense seconds. And then the most unfathomable expression appeared on his face.

"Your eyes," he mumbled quietly.

"What about my eyes?"

Edward shrugged. "They're perfect," he replied. "I love you too."


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: This was kind of a weird chapter to write. I don't know why. But it was. Tell me what you think. And if there is anything that you don't understand, let me know. I don't know if I did the best job of explaining.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, SNL, Jack Daniels, or the Chicago Blackhawks.

* * *

Thanksgiving.

I had called my dad and told him that I would be staying in Chicago for the holiday. I said that it seemed pointless to fly out for two days when I would be coming for Christmas in just a month. He agreed that I should save my money for something more important. In reality though, I just couldn't leave Edward alone to deal with Thanksgiving dinner with Alice, Jasper, Rosalie, and Emmett.

Alice smiled wide as she gripped Jasper's hand even tighter. Their hands rested on the tabletop and it was one of the few blatant signs of affection that I had seen between them. "I think we should all go around the table and say something that we are thankful for."

I turned my head to look at Edward and found him gazing back at me. My lips twitched into a small smile. I knew exactly what I was thankful for.

It had been a difficult three and a half weeks for us since…the incident or whatever we were calling it—the day that he cut. The first few days were the worst, the hardest for both of us, but we made it past them. He didn't want to get out of bed and I had to force him to continue his regular routine—waking up, shower, gallery, lunch, bed. He didn't really paint much those few days—Edward told me that he hits a wall when he got like this—so he sat with me in the gallery for most of the day and doodled weird pictures in a sketch book.

But after those first few days, I could see him coming back to me piece by piece. At first it was just a sarcastic comment. And then it was a smirk. He started to intentionally provoke me and make me argue with him even though I was afraid of saying the wrong thing. The day he smiled I nearly cried tears of joy. He stayed in the gallery with me for over a week, asking me questions and telling me stories about his childhood.

Then one morning he woke up before I did and skipped excitedly to the gallery because he was so excited that he almost couldn't wait to get into his studio. He said there was something therapeutic about the feel of paint on his hands. I was happy for him, but I was also worried. I must have checked in on him every fifteen minutes the entire day. Edward didn't make a comment about me being overbearing even though I knew that it distracted him. He was perfectly fine. And, now, I didn't feel the need to check on him at all. I trusted him to talk to me if it got rough on him.

"Rosalie, why don't you go first?" Alice suggested.

Edward's relationship with his brother and Rose was still strained, but he had promised to remain civil throughout Thanksgiving dinner. And I had promised to stab Rosalie through the jugular if she started anything. But everyone had been really quiet and polite so I wasn't too worried about facing murder charges.

She wiped her mouth. "I'm thankful for Emmett and that we'll be starting a family soon."

I glanced at Edward, but he just took a drink of his beer, not appearing to be fazed by her comment.

Em smiled. "I'm thankful that the Blackhawks are on a winning streak." Of course he would make a joke. Rosalie glared at him, but he continued to wear his easy smile.

"The Ducks are going to kill them tomorrow," Edward muttered.

"Wanna bet, little brother?" Em replied, not freaked out like the rest of us because they were actually having a conversation. I hadn't seen them speak since Halloween.

"You know that I don't bet," he said, a little louder than his last comment.

Emmett threw his head back and laughed. "Because you always lose."

Edward rolled his eyes, but I definitely saw a trace of a smile on his lips. "I'm just saying, you should find something else to be thankful for, because the Hawks' winning streak is not going to last." I squeezed his hand underneath the table.

"Fine," Em said. "I'm also thankful for my old school SNL DVDs, Jack Daniels, and my Irish girlfriend, Siobhan." Edward snorted, Rosalie looked pissed, and the rest of us looked around at each other in confusion. "Chill out. It's a joke," he added after he saw the glare that his fiancée was giving him.

"I'm thankful for the entire state of Texas," Alice said out of nowhere, trying to alleviate the obvious tension between the couple. "Because that's where Jasper is from."

I had been so wrapped up in Edward and I that I hadn't really gotten a chance to talk to Alice about what she revealed at the Halloween party. From what I understood though, she had been tortured both by her parents and by a stranger. It didn't seem like I was going to get a straight answer from her—she got…fuzzy when she tried to explain it differently. So I was going to try and talk to Jasper after dinner, if we ever made it through dinner.

Jasper smiled at me. "I'm going to steal your answer, Bella." I looked at him curiously, confused by his disclaimer. "I'm thankful for Edward, because he took care of Alice for me when I couldn't."

"That wasn't my answer," I told him with a grin, risking a glance at my boyfriend.

He smiled at me, like a real smile—one that made my heart melt and my stomach muscles clench. "You aren't thankful for me?" Edward asked playfully.

"Yes, of course, I am. But that wasn't going to be my answer."

Edward released my hand underneath the table and placed it on my thigh just above my knee. As could be expected, the physical side of our relationship had taken a backseat while we worked our way back to normalcy, normal for us. We had still kissed and held hands and hugged. Hell, we even cuddled every night. But, damn, I was about to die. I knew it wasn't right to push him because he wasn't ready, but I spent all day near him. And that meant that I was always keyed up around him. I needed him.

That was another thing I planned on getting after dinner.

"What's your answer then, babe? What are you thankful for?" he asked. I brought my hand up and brushed back his beautiful, crazy hair.

"Your family for getting you to Chicago. And Tyler Crowley for somehow getting me here. If that dick had never cheated on me, then I might never have realized how much I love to write or wanted to go to Northwestern, so I can't even be pissed at him now," I replied.

Edward brought his lips to mine, ignoring the other four people at the table. "I'm thankful for you above everything else; you're like a light when everything else is darkness."

For some reason, my mind flickered back to the poem that Alice had said on my first night at the building, but I couldn't figure out why. And before I could focus on it, Edward distracted me by kissing me again and sliding his hand higher up my thigh. God, we had to get out of here before I threw him onto the table and had made my way with him.

Out of nowhere, Alice gasped. She looked at me, smirking ever so slightly. "Oh my gosh, Bella. You left your flash drive at the gallery and it has your paper for your meeting with your advisor saved on it. You need to get it now or else you'll be late tomorrow."

I didn't know whether to burst out laughing or worship her for giving us an out. "Thank you, Alice. A million times thank you."

"No problem. I'm just glad that my gift could be put to good use."

"I owe you," I told her seriously.

Alice giggled. "I'll hold you to that."

I stood up and grabbed Edward's hand. "You have your keys to the gallery, right?" He nodded slowly in confusion. "Okay, great. Let's go, babe. We'll be back in jiffy."

Edward and I both put on our coats and headed outside. The second that the door was shut behind us, he turned and looked at me. "Your meeting with your advisor was yesterday, so what the hell is going on?" I giggled.

I loved Alice. She was my second favorite person in the world, even if I kind of owed her my first born for this. I was about to combust; I only hoped that I could wait until we got out of the streets.

"You'll see," I said impatiently. "Come on; let's get to the gallery before my fingers freeze off. Or, heaven forbid, yours." His hands were perfect, delectable, and he needed them for more than just pleasuring me. He kind of needed them to make a living.

"You promise to explain it to me at the gallery?" he asked.

"I promise that everything will become clear soon."

Edward unlocked the gallery doors and walked into the warm building. I closed the door and locked it behind me. While he was still walking away from me, I took off my jacket and my socks and shoes, leaving them in a pile by the floor. I took a few steps closer to him, and then I removed my pants and panties. A few more steps and the shirt and bra came off as well. By the time I caught up with him and tapped him on his shoulder, I was completely naked. He turned around and his jaw dropped.

"I love Thanksgiving. I have so much to be thankful for," he said, eyeing me appreciatively. "So fucking beautiful."

I closed the few inches of space between us and captured his lips with my own. My fingers held his face to me, but I could feel him struggling against his clothes. When I pulled away for a breath, he had his jacket, both shoes, and one sock off. I giggled.

"Why don't you get rid of the clothes and come and find me when you are ready," I whispered into his ear.

I really don't know what came over me. It was like my birthday all over again. Good girls didn't ask to be fucked against walls. And they certainly didn't enlist a psychic so that she could get a release. Good girls didn't want their men to do what I wanted Edward to do to me. So maybe I wasn't as good as I thought I was.

I sauntered into Edward's office. It was the room where I spent most of my time. He had a big desk set up where I typed and he kept a bunch of his business files. From the moment I had first laid eyes on the desk, I had had this fantasy. Every morning at work when he left me alone with this desk, it played over and over again in my head. I wanted this so badly that I was dripping before he had even entered the room.

I leaned over the desk, pressing my stomach against the hard wood. Both of my hands came out to firmly grip the sides of the desk. And I spread my legs a little more so that this would be easier for him.

"Shit," I heard him swear as he entered the room.

I turned my head to look at him. He was so fucking hot. And he was all mine. Edward pulled at his hair as if he couldn't believe that this was real. But his dick knew it was. In his hazy, lust-induced state, Edward's cock always won.

"I want you to fuck me," I said, my voice low.

"Shit. Fuck. Damn," he muttered to himself as he slowly made his way behind me.

Edward slid his fingers down my back before placing his hands square on my hips. I felt his erection against my lower back as he leaned down to whisper in my ear. "Damn it, Bella. You'll be the death of me. I swear you will."

I nearly came at the sound of his voice.

"Edward, I need you inside of me."

But before I could even finish the sentence, he had already pushed into me. And he growled. And it had been entirely too long since we had last had sex. My body craved his, needed his, to function properly.

He pulled out and pushed back into me. And then once more. But it wasn't what I wanted.

"Baby, the desk and I can both take it. Fuck me harder."

Edward's fingers dug into my hips—there would be bruises tomorrow—and he pulled out and slammed back into me. I screamed out louder than I ever had with him as I tightened my grip on the desk, my fingers beginning to ache. Before I even had time to recover, he pulled out and crashed his body into mine again. My toes curled in pleasure as a strangled cry made its way from my lips.

"Oh, god," I muttered, unable to say anything else as he pushed in again. And again. And again. The noises coming from me could make a porn star blush, but I couldn't contain them. I had never in my life felt this good and I never wanted it to end, though I knew it would.

Edward grazed his teeth down my back and one of his hands slipped away from my hip. And I knew instantly where it was heading. He had never been greedy with me, always made sure that I came either before or at the same time I did. It was the complete opposite of all the guys I had dated before him.

Even fucking me so hard over his desk that I wasn't sure I'd be able to walk home felt more personal and intimate than anything I had done with anyone else. For me, Edward was it. Not just for mind-blowing sex. But for good. He and I were one. And I knew that.

He continued to pound into me, his grunts and groans just exciting me more. He rubbed my clit furiously, pinching it between his fingers. My body felt like it was on fire, burning up from my head to my toes. I wasn't going to last. I was wound up so tight and the spring was begging to be snapped.

I felt Edward's teeth bite into my shoulder and that was it. I came. Hard. Loud. And I felt Edward cum right after me.

My body trembled for a minute as the beating of my heart returned to normal.

"I'm sorry," Edward murmured as he trailed his lips along my spine.

"What one earth could you possibly be sorry about? That was fucking amazing." He laughed lightly.

"I bit you," he said regretfully. "I got a little caught up."

I pushed off of the desk and turned around to look at him. "I enjoyed it. If you were ever being too rough, I would have told you."

"Promise?" he asked, staring into my eyes.

"I promise." And I kissed his lips quickly. "As much as I enjoyed this, we have to get back. Alice only bought us so much time."

"Damn, I wanted to eat you out in the lounge," Edward replied, his eyes shining. I had to ignore how amazing that sounded.

"Another time."

He looked disappointed, but nodded. We went back out into the main room and put back on our clothes. I hated seeing his fuck-hot body covered, but I also didn't want anyone else to see him. He was mine. And I was a little possessive.

Whether it was from being freshly fucked or his increasingly good mood I don't know, but Edward insisted on giving me a piggy back ride back to the building. I was sure that he really did think that he had been too rough with me. But he hadn't. Despite all of my reassurances, I was sure that the next time we had sex he would be slow and gentle. And that was okay. I loved sex with Edward because each time was different and exciting.

I pressed my lips to his neck, right below his ear, as he let me slide to the ground in front of the building.

"I love you," Edward said with a wide smile.

"I'm so in love with you."

He wrapped his arm around loosely around my waist and we went back inside. The others were done with dinner and watching football on the TV that Rose and Em had set up downstairs. Emmett had four different desserts on his plate. Rosalie looked bored. And Alice smiled at us expectantly. Instead of watching football, Jasper was sitting on the stairs.

I kissed Edward on the cheek and said that I needed to talk to him. He looked unwilling to let me go at first, but eventually he did. Edward nodded at Jasper—a greeting or something—and then walked over to the couches, sitting down next to Alice.

I walked up the stairs and he patted the one he was sitting on, so that's where I came to rest as well. Neither of us spoke for several minutes. I didn't know what to ask. Or say. Jasper had reacted in a less than stellar manner at the party and I wondered if maybe he wasn't the best one to talk to after all.

"Alice said that I should talk to you," he finally spoke. "What exactly is it that you want to know?" He was looking down at his shoes with a frown on his face.

"If it is too hard for you to talk about it…" I trailed off.

"No, it's fine," he said with a sigh. "I know Alice's story as if it's my own. I memorized every detail that she has told me and everything I found out on my own. They were awful to her, Bella. No one should ever have to go through shit like that."

I gulped. "What exactly happened to her?" My fingers started fidgeting because I was nervous. I wanted to know, but I was terrified about what I might find out.

"Alice came from a very strict religious family—I'm sure you could tell that from the story she told at Halloween—and it became obvious to her parents that something was different about her. They didn't understand, so they claimed that it was evil, that she was evil. Their preacher or pastor or minister or whatever tried to perform an exorcism on her. She was six."

Jasper paused here and took a few breaths through his nose because his jaw was clenched so tightly that I wasn't sure it would ever open again. He pushed his hair back from his eyes and continued.

"She was six and she was scared and didn't understand what was happening to her. But, needless to say, the exorcism was a failure. So they locked her up in their basement until she was ten, barely giving her food or water. Then they sent her to some quack doctor who was both a psychiatrist and an over-compensating little prick with a messiah complex."

He stopped again and I tried to process everything that he had said. But the more I understood, the more I wanted him to stop telling me. Because I wasn't sure that I was strong enough to know.

"Are you okay, Bella? You look sick," he asked quietly.

"I am. Keep going." Jasper nodded and put his arm around my shoulders as if he could protect me from the past and not even my own.

"From what I've found out recently, the doctor has lost his license, but that doesn't really help Alice. Um, she went through electroconvulsive therapy three times a week. And when that didn't work, he upgraded to four times a week. It still didn't work, so he took to beating her. This went on until she was fifteen. And then she found an escape. I don't understand how she managed to escape from that place—and she can't really explain it herself—but she did. She hitchhiked to Chicago. That's when she found Edward."

"They took care of each other," I whispered. Jasper nodded.

"They did," he replied just as quietly. "I meant what I said earlier. I will forever be thankful for Edward because he watched out for Alice when I wasn't here, before I even knew that I was supposed to be here."

I nodded and looked down. "And I'll be thankful for Alice because she gave him a family again." My stomach was still in knots, but I had to ask one more thing. "Do you really believe that you are supposed to be here? Like, it is predestined or fate or whatever?"

Jasper turned to look at me. He smiled softly. "I never believed in any of that before I got here, before the first time that I saw Alice. And it was as if my entire life had twisted and converged to get me to Chicago, to get me to her."

"When are you going to tell her that you love her?" I badgered jokingly.

Jasper laughed once, almost as if he was breathless. "I actually told her this morning for the first time. Ever. And she said she loved me too."


	18. Chapter 18

A/n: Another chapter for you my lovelies. I do hope that you are enjoying the story. I can't always tell.

Disclaimer: Don't own Twilight, Gumby, A Christmas Story, or "Just A Friend."

* * *

"Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked me for the millionth time since she had first asked me the day after Thanksgiving. Emmett, when he discovered what I planned on doing, even joined in. But my response to both of them was always the same—yes, I was sure.

"Bella, I know that you are just looking out for me but now is not the time to discuss this," I replied. She turned in her seat to look at me more directly.

"Why not?"

"Because our plane is already halfway to Washington. If I wasn't sure that I could handle this then I wouldn't have ever told you that I would go or boarded the plane. I'll be fine."

Bella had invited me to spend Christmas in Forks with her family, which would be a dramatic change from the kind of Christmas that I had grown accustomed to—vending machine snacks and all of the independent films I could get my hands on to tide me over until they finally stopped showing _A Christmas Story_. It would be weird to be around people, to be around a family, but Bella had spent Thanksgiving with me. And I knew that she would skip Christmas with her dad if she wasn't sure I was okay and this was the best way of showing her that I was fine.

We would spend a few days doing the Christmas thing with her family and then we would fly back and have a kick-ass New Year's Eve party at the loft. We had gotten everything ready before we left. I went grocery shopping for all of the things on the massive list that Bella left for me, while she and Alice went to IKEA to make my loft 'pretty.' That wasn't exactly the adjective I was going for, but I couldn't really fight Alice on this.

Everything with Bella had been going really well. She was a little stressed out the week after Thanksgiving, but after that she was done with school until mid-January so she had a lot of down time to relax. I forced her to take a few days off and go to a spa with Jane. She was petulant about it, but we both survived the days apart and the welcome home sex was fantastic. I took her out on dates, which she always complained about the price tag of even though she wasn't the one paying, real dates to try and get us to a good place. I had fucked everything up at the beginning of November but I was trying to rectify that.

Even in the midst of all the chaos and drama that had been our relationship, one thing remained constant and that was my love for her. Every morning I woke up to her cuddling into my side for a few more minutes of sleep before we headed to the gallery. And every Friday that we played drinking games and got wasted I would carry her up to bed. Then I would spend Saturday taking care of her. I loved arguing with her about books and politics and art and music—anything and everything just to get her to curse at me in frustration.

I loved her. And I didn't want to fuck up again. I didn't want to hurt her again.

When our plane landed in Port Angeles, we packed up all our bags into the rental car and drove to Forks. It was icy and raining so the drive took a lot more time than it had the last time we were here. The extra time allowed me to become worried about whether or not I could handle a family Christmas. The blade was long gone, tossed in a dumpster somewhere, but I knew that if things got drastic I could find something. I didn't want to. That would kill her. But the thought was there in the back of my mind. I knew what I was capable of.

We checked into a hotel just outside of Forks, because her dad's house wasn't big enough for us to stay there. That was fine with me though. I was sure that Bella wouldn't have sex with me in Charlie's house. Plus, this way, if it got to be too much I could always go somewhere and chill out. I carried our bags up to the room and sat them on the bed.

She immediately pushed them off of the bed and grabbed me by the t-shirt and pulled me down on top of her. My lips found hers quickly. Bella grazed her teeth along my bottom lip and gently pulled on it. We must have laid there for hours just kissing, not in any hurry.

Then her phone rang. I pulled it from her pocket before she did and answered it. I laughed to myself.

"Hello, Charlie," I said. Bella stared in curiosity.

"Hello, Edward. You guys were still planning on coming over for dinner tonight, right?"

I looked around the room for a clock and realized that we were supposed to be there in fifteen minutes. Bella followed my gaze and her eyes widened. She jumped off the bed and started rummaging through her suitcase for something other than the comfortable clothes that we had worn on the flight here.

"Um, yeah. We're just running a little behind schedule." He snorted as if he knew what we had been doing. My father used to do things like that too. It always freaked me out.

"We'll see you soon then. And be careful out there. It's slick."

"We will. See you in a bit."

I hung up and put her phone on the bed, reluctantly changing out of my sweats and t-shirt into a shirt with buttons. I put on my gray jeans and green plaid shirt, Bella's favorite. She came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, still playing with her hair. I slipped on my shoes and coat as Bella dumped out her entire bag looking for her camera. She found it at the very bottom and threw it into her purse.

We arrived five minutes late due to the fact that I wanted us to make it there alive. It was dark and the roads were covered in ice. And I didn't like it at all. Bella seemed more confident driving than I would have been, but she still kept the speed down because she could tell I was freaking out. I knew that I wouldn't survive if anything happened to Bella.

Seth, Bella's step-brother who I had only met in passing, ran out to greet us…her. He ignored me and he picked her up and spun her in circles talking excitedly about Bella making him cookies and how annoying their parents had been and just running a mile a minute. He smiled wide the entire time which seemed like it would be damn near impossible since his lips never stopped moving, but somehow he accomplished it. And Bella looked just as excited to see him. She giggled and threw in random comments.

In Chicago it was easy to forget that she had a family and a past and people who had loved her a lot longer than I had. And Seth was one of those people. If he was important to Bella, then I needed to turn off my typical, sullen, aloof act and be friendly.

He placed her back on the ground but she almost slipped on the ice. Both he and I reached out to catch her, but it wasn't needed. She steadied herself. "Hey Seth, you remember Edward?"

The teenager turned his attention to me. "Yeah, man. So, Bella tells me that you spoke pot." I started laughing, but she punched him in the shoulder. "Geez, Bells, what's that about? It was a joke."

He used his hand to rub the stinging flesh. "Well, it wasn't fucking funny."

I smiled. "It was kind of funny." That's when she turned her glare on me. Hers were so scary that it made Rose look like a whining toddler. "Drugs are no joke, Seth. They can mess you up badly. Get high on life—hope not dope."

Seth burst out laughing, while Bella ran her fingers through her hair angrily. "Laugh it up you two. But don't come crying to me when Charlie finds out and has another heart attack because I'm dating a pothead."

She had never brought up my…recreational drug use before. If Bella had issues with it, she was either really good at hiding it or I spent way too much time under the influence because she had never shown me a negative opinion on it. She even joked about me smoking pot. We probably needed to discuss this, but dinner at her dad's house didn't seem like the right time.

"I'm sorry," I said as I wrapped my arm around her. "I'm not going to go around publicizing whether or not I have bongs in my bedroom. Chill. Charlie likes me. I'm not going to jeopardize that."

"Yeah, we were just joking around," Seth jumped in to defend his ass from the wrath of pissy Bella too. "We'll be good and have a nice, safe, boring family dinner where Charlie doesn't find out anyone's deep, dark secrets." I nodded in agreement.

Bella sighed. "I'm sorry, guys. I know you were just messing. I don't know I'm freaking out about this."

"Maybe because the last time we were here was under less than stellar circumstances. Maybe because you're worried if your dad will actually like me when he's not high on morphine. Maybe because it's a Wednesday and you hate Wednesdays."

She laughed lightly. "How do you know that I hate Wednesdays?"

"Because I pay attention," I replied. It was true. She grumbled and complained every Wednesday morning, worse so than an average day. I never knew why, but I knew it was true. "Let's go inside and have dinner. It will be fine. Plus, I think Seth mentioned cookies. And you know how much I love when you make cookies."

Seth gasped theatrically. "You make him cookies too. I thought you only made them for me." He pouted his bottom lip, making him look even younger than he was. I wasn't sure at first, but I liked the kid. If I had a little brother I would have wanted him to be something like this—funny, snarky, a bit of a brat. But, alas, I had to be Emmett's snarky, witty, bratty younger brother.

"Nope, I share my cookies with all the boys."

"You better not be sharing your cookies with all the boys. I might have a problem with that." Seth nodded in agreement. Glad that we are on the same page, pup. I might just keep you around.

"Yeah, Bells, I don't think that's okay. Sharing with Edward is one thing. I don't want to share with the entire male population."

"Fine, fine. I'll only make cookies for you two from now on. Will that satisfy you both?" She hooked her arm in Seth's and marched us to the front door as we agreed to her terms.

Despite Bella's pre-dinner freak out, everything went smoothly. Most of the meal consisted of Bella asking questions about how Charlie had been since he got home from the hospital, what it was like to start work again, and then her dad deflecting all of the questions and instead asking Bella how grad school was going. I barely spoke the entire dinner, except to compliment Sue on dinner and to talk about Call of Duty with Seth. It had been years since I had played the original with Emmett—we had devoted entire weeks that summer trying to master it.

After dinner, Bella and I washed the dishes and then she and Sue started to make Christmas cookies. I had almost forgotten the reason we were here. I wouldn't make that mistake again. Seth and I joined Charlie in the living room to watch a Redskins game. I wasn't a huge sports fanatic—I had started watching hockey with Emmett recently as a way to fix the mess that I had helped cause between us—but if I needed to watch football in order to gain Bella's father's approval then I would.

Seth followed me around like a lost puppy. He asked questions about me and my life and about my relationship with Bella. I was pretty sure that Charlie was listening in despite how focused he appeared to be on the game, so I took extra care to make my answers G rated. I didn't want to accidently slip in something about our sex life or even hint that I had seen her knees or elbows or belly button. Didn't want to send Charlie back to Forks General.

Finally, Seth turned his attention to his step-daddy. "I need to go to Port Angeles sometime to get Mom's present and Bella's."

"I work tomorrow until five. Everything will be closed by then, Seth," Charlie replied.

"I can take you, if you want," I offered. "I mean, Bella and I have the rental and I'm sure she wouldn't have a problem with spending a few hours away from me, sleeping in and relaxing." Charlie smiled as if the idea of Bella actually relaxing was humorous.

"Yeah, that would be awesome, Edward. Thanks."

The next morning I was lying in bed waiting for my alarm to go off and signal that I needed to get up and get ready for my outing with Seth. I was absently running my thumb along her hip bone and thinking about what it would have been like to take Bella to one of my family's Christmas dinners. It would have been madness and beautiful and now it was impossible.

"That's very distracting," Bella mumbled into her pillow. "I thought that you were supposed to let me sleep in."

When she had first moved in, Bella was always on time and up in the morning at ungodly hours, but I think that I corrupted her because we were always five minutes late to everything—usually my fault because I sucked at time perception—and now she always slept in. But that may have been because we had been going through the sex books that Alice had given us and some of those moves you had to be fucking Nadia Comaneci or Gumby to do. I had grown accustomed to waking up with a dull ache in my muscles from the strenuous work out Bella had given me.

"Sorry, love. Go back to sleep. I didn't mean to wake you."

Bella turned over in bed and faced me, brushing strands of her chaotic, mahogany hair out of her face. "It's okay. This way I get to see you before you go off gallivanting with Seth."

I rolled my eyes at her. "I do not gallivant. I'm taking him to go get presents for his mom. That's pretty important. And it's Christmas Eve so everywhere is going to be packed. I'm so thankful that I have had your presents for forever."

"Presents? Plural?" She got this terrified look on her face. Bella had this thing about money. She thought that since I came from money it somehow gave me the upper hand in our relationship and I didn't really understand her rational of this, but I went along with it because I didn't want to do anything to upset her. I learned that she wasn't big on huge romantic gestures and showering her with presents just made her uncomfortable. It was a delicate balance for me, because I wanted to give her everything that she could ever want and need. And she wanted me to rein the 'provider' part of me in.

"Don't think of it like that. It's not as if a U-Haul is going to show up here Christmas morning. There's only two and one of them is more for me. Plus, it's back in Chicago. I didn't think it would be appropriate to show your father." I smiled to myself.

"Is it lingerie?"

"No, but I can always buy you some if you want." I smirked; she frowned.

"Two presents is more than enough." I kissed her. "Seth really likes you. He hasn't been like this since Jake."

"Like what?"

"Happy, I guess is the best way to describe it. He was the same way with Jacob. Seth always wanted to be included in whatever he was doing, to be a part of his life. He's doing that with you now."

"Is that a bad thing?" I asked. She shook her head slowly, thoughtfully.

"No. I'm glad that you guys are getting along."

My alarm finally went off and I got up and showered. By the time I was dressed and ready to leave, I realized that I was going to be late again. But when I pulled up into the driveway, Seth practically mauled the car as he jumped in.

"Whoa. Someone's a morning person." Seth's entire demeanor changed from ecstatic to quiet and withdrawn. Fuck. "That's not a bad thing. It's just a change from Bella. She's not usually cheerful when she first wakes up."

"You're with Bella when she first wakes up?" he smiled at me and I realized my slip.

"Okay, all of the stupid things that I say today about our relationship are going to stay between me and you just like what Bella told you about me. Got it?"

"Sure, sure. But Charlie's not stupid. You guys have been dating a while. You're both adults. He knows that you are sleeping together."

"Still, I'm not going to launch into a discussion with him about Bella's hips or something. Let's at least pretend that we are all blissfully unaware of what is going on."

"Okay," he replied, still as chipper as ever.

Seth found what he wanted to get his mom and Bella pretty quickly. We probably would have been back in Forks by mid-morning if not for the ridiculous check-out lines. It was like they didn't even realize that the store might be busy and only had one person doing everything. It took nearly an hour to get out of the store, so we decided to grab an early lunch, because we were supposed to have finger foods or something that night after Charlie got off work and we were supposed to go back and prepare. Neither of us wanted the temptation of looking but not touching, so we stopped at a McDonald's.

Despite all of my ribbing and calling him 'pup,' because he followed me around like a lost puppy, I really did like the kid. He was entertaining and in a way reminded me of Emmett when he was younger. It was good to know that I had an ally in Bella's family in case I accidently messed up with Charlie. I was going to have to be more careful about what I said with her dad than I had been with her brother. Things kept slipping out.

It was important to keep this a nice, wholesome family Christmas.

"Hey, don't you have a sister or something. Leah?" I asked after I took a sip of my coke.

"Yeah, she's supposed to get here the day after Christmas, so you'll get to meet her. Good luck with that, by the way. She's kind of intense."

"Where is she now?"

Seth shrugged. "Who fucking knows? She took off after Jake died. Didn't say anything to us for almost a year and a half. And then she just calls and says that she's coming back the day after Christmas. So…whatever."

That's what I had done. I had taken off after my parents died. Only, I didn't come back. I never would have gone back. Rosalie wasn't exactly right that I hadn't gotten my share of the estate. I took the few things that I wanted with me and had no intention of looking back.

"She took his death really hard?"

"Yeah," he said as he shoveled some fries into his mouth. "We all did. Me. And Bella. All his friends. But Leah…they were engaged."

"That's rough," I replied, imagining what it would be like to lose Bella. The idea wasn't pleasant. And we weren't even engaged.

"Yeah. I mean, we knew what he was getting into. Afghanistan. But I guess we pushed it out of our heads thinking that it could never happen to someone that we knew, someone that we loved. You know, I used to want to go into the military just like Jake. Now I'm not so sure. Not because of me, but because of my mom and Leah and Bella. I don't know that they could handle it. Maybe I couldn't handle it either."

I took another drink to clear my throat. "My best friend, Jasper, he did two tours in Iraq. The first one was eighteen months. The second one was two years. At the very end of his second one, he watched a car bomb kill a nine year old girl. It really screwed him up. Like, really screwed him up. If you decide to go into the military, make sure it is what you really want to do. Don't do it for or because of someone."

He nodded. "Okay."

The car ride back to Forks was much quieter than the one there. The only noises were the sounds of my iPod through the speakers. "Just a Friend" by Biz Markie came on. It was one of the songs that Emmett and I had listened to all the time growing up and it always made me smile.

Seth burst out laughing. "Does Bella know you have this song?"

"I don't know. Why?"

He started laughing again. "For her eighteenth birthday we took her to Port Angeles to a do karaoke. And this is the song that she and Leah sung together. They got really into it. I think we have it on video somewhere."

"That I want to see." I couldn't even imagine Bella doing karaoke. I was going to have to drag her out to a karaoke bar in Chicago.

"I'll find it for you."

"Good man."

We swung by the hotel to pick up Bella before heading over to the house to help with dinner preparations. I distracted Bella and Sue while Seth went to his room to wrap his presents and to find that video. But after thirty minutes they sent me up to get him. They assumed that he had fallen asleep. They were right; I found him face planted on his bed, the presents wrapped and put in the corner. I woke his ass up and dragged him downstairs with me.

Everything smelled really good, but that was when Sue realized that she forgot to get carrots, so I volunteered to run to the store. Bella made a comment about me being super helpful today, but I just needed to keep myself busy for the next few days. It had been a long time without a real Christmas and I kept feeling like I was suffocating. I loved her family and I loved helping, but I needed some air.

Charlie pulled up just as I got outside. I told him where I was going and he told me to hop in the car. His police car.

"Front or back?" I asked, cheekily.

"He makes jokes too," Charlie said wryly as I got into the front passenger seat. We got to the little grocery store quickly.

I was a little surprised when Charlie got out to go inside with me. But I wasn't at all surprised that he brought his gun in. How else was he supposed to kill me and put me in the freezer? I didn't really believe that Charlie would do that, but we all have our fears. I just suppose that mine involve fathers, Glocks, and meat.

"She just told you carrots?" he asked. I nodded.

"Yeah, raw carrots for the relish plate."

"Sue will call in a few minutes with something else. She always does."

And, like the prophet that he was, my phone started ringing. Bella.

"Hey, babe, can you pick up a head broccoli too?" she asked sweetly.

"Yeah, no problem. See you in a bit." I grabbed some broccoli and put it in the empty cart. There was something about the fluorescent lights of the grocery store and the grimy tile floor that reminded me of my mother. It must have been all those summer days that she dragged us to the store with her and we would always beg for ice cream.

I walked down the beverage aisle and grabbed me a six pack of bottled Heineken. Charlie laughed. It was more a snort, but I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"They're not going to let you bring those into the house."

"Why not?"

"Sue got rid of all of the alcohol in the house after my heart attack. Except for red wine. But I'm not a big fan." He grimaced.

"Are you saying that you haven't had a beer since September, Charlie? That's just criminal." I smiled, but he was frowning. "You can have one of mine."

"The wife would kill me. And I'm pretty sure Bella would kill you." He laughed.

"It's just one beer. It's my Christmas present to you," I joked. "Then they have to let you have it."

He shook his head. "Good luck in getting that one through them."

I smiled. "I can be very persuasive, Charlie."


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: Christmas was only supposed to be two chapters, but it's going to end up being three. What comes next just doesn't fit with how I ended this one, so it will come up in the next chapter. This chapter is the actual Christmas day. Presents. Drama. Lemon. Happy Christmas in July.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or Tiffany.

* * *

I'm not really sure how he did it, but Edward convinced Sue to let Charlie drink a bottle of Heineken and on Christmas morning no less. All he probably had to do was look into her eyes with his green ones all shining and radiant and whisper "please." That was usually enough to turn me into mush and make me do whatever he wanted—go play in the rain with him or go dancing or let him buy me something. His eyes and lips distracted me far too much and, apparently, they worked on all females because it wasn't even ten thirty AM and my dad was already halfway finished with the bottle.

Edward was smirking and Charlie looked happy. I was sure that he had stuck to the diet the doc had set up for him, because if he didn't it would upset Sue. And it somehow made it even more spectacular that my boyfriend had been able to convince her to give in because she was usually a hard ass about this sort of stuff.

"Can we open presents yet?" Seth asked for the fifteenth time since we arrived. Edward and I had bought him a Wii. And by 'Edward and I' I mean that Edward bought him a Wii while I insisted that it was unnecessary to try and buy my step-brother's affections. This was before we had arrived in Forks and before Seth had developed a man-crush on Edward, but it would just solidify their bond.

I was sure that as soon as all the presents were unwrapped, they would be up in his room setting the game up and playing bowling or tennis or one of the eight games that Edward also bought to go with the game because, "It's not fun to get a console without having games to play with it." Whatever.

Thus far, Edward had handled Christmas pretty well. Every once in awhile I would catch him freezing up or hyperventilating, but he always seemed to get it under control without my intervention. I thought that he might have to leave our Christmas Eve mini-party when he heard Christmas music playing; he instead pulled me into his lap and wrapped his arms tightly around me. It was a good fifteen minutes before his grip slackened enough for me to breathe regularly.

"Charlie, what do you think?" Sue asked. My dad shrugged indifferently. I wondered if four months without a beer had turned him back into a light-weight.

"Let him go ahead. It's not like we're waiting on fireworks or something first."

Seth tore into his presents like a man possessed. He whooped and hollered as he unwrapped the games and the Wii, not so much when he got new clothes, but that kid grew like a weed. He had sprouted up a few more inches in the time we had been gone.

Edward handed me my present. It was a small box. That worried me. After I unwrapped the present, it worried me even more. I may have been poor, but I recognized Tiffany blue when I saw it.

"Edward," I said refusing to open it.

"Bella, don't. I didn't spend one penny on the contents of the box. It was my mother's favorite necklace. My dad gave it to her on their second date or something like that, because he was such a charmer. He knew he couldn't live without her." I could feel my heart fluttering around in my chest, something that hadn't happened in a while. Edward's voice got even quieter. "Just like I know that I can't live without you. So, please, don't."

I wiped a few tears that had somehow fallen from my eyes. "I can't believe you made me cry," I said laughing quietly.

The most beautiful necklace I had ever seen was waiting for me when I opened the box up. It was dripping in diamonds. I didn't want to guess the price or whether or not it cost more than grad school was costing me. All I could do was stare.

"Can I?" he asked, reaching for the necklace. I nodded. Edward came up behind me and clasped the necklace. And then he kissed my cheek.

"Thank you," I said, feeling like the words weren't enough.

For a few minutes, Edward couldn't tear his eyes off the necklace.

Edward took a breath and he looked shaky. "I need to get some air."

I got Charlie's attention and told him that we would be right back. Edward and I put on our coats and slipped outside for a few minutes. I had known that this was going to be difficult on him, especially after avoiding the holiday for years as if it didn't exist. I stood on the porch steps, while he stood on the ground; it was almost enough to make us within a few inches of one another. Edward wrapped his arms around my waist and put his forehead on my shoulder. My fingers ran through his hair slowly. I didn't know how to soothe him, but he had told me when there was a problem and I knew that was a big step for him, for both of us really.

"I hate this feeling," he said quietly as I gently massaged the nape of his neck, trying to relieve the obvious tension there. "It's like being on a roller coaster, I guess. My body is moving without my consent. Just hurtling about. It doesn't feel real sometimes. And other times it feels so real, so tangible, and so heavy. This isn't making sense. I'm not making any sense. I'm like Alice when she goes off on one of her little rants."

"It doesn't matter. If talking helps, then talk."

Edward lifted his head up off my shoulder, but looked past me. "Talking helps. I just never talk to anyone. I'm too proud, too stubborn, to ask for help when I know that I'm struggling. I hate the idea of burdening someone else with my all of my shit just because I can't deal with it myself. I can't believe that I just said any of that."

I continued to rub his neck. "You know, there's something that Alice told me when I first moved in that I didn't understand. She said that it's not about you or me or any one person. It's about all of us. We all need each other to survive. And I believe that now. You can't do this all on your own, so don't even try. Talk to me or Alice or Jasper. Tell your brother what you've been going through for the last few years. Let him or them or me in. Even if all I can do is hug you until you can't breathe and tell you that I love you. At least you won't be doing this alone."

"Yeah, okay," he said quietly. I think he really meant it though.

"What can I do to help you?"

He shrugged. "Just give me another minute." Edward closed his eyes and let his head fall back. He swallowed slowly and I couldn't help but stare at his Adam's apple. Even in pain, he was still the most beautiful man I had ever seen.

It wasn't much longer before he opened his eyes and looked at me for the first time since we had left the house.

"You're amazing to me. I don't deserve it."

I sighed. "Don't say shit like that. I love you. And I will do anything within my power for you. Just like I know you would for me." He nodded.

"I love you. And I think that we should go back inside."

I let him lead me back into our spot on the couch in the living room. I was worried about if he would be able to handle his present, especially after what had just happened. But I did. And he unwrapped it slowly.

"A digital picture frame?" he asked.

"Turn it on. I got a little help from Emmett, so I hope that you like it."

He turned it on and the first picture that he saw was of his parents. Em told me that the picture was taken just a few weeks before the wreck. Then there was a picture of Edward and Emmett when they were younger. Edward had on these adorable, big glasses. He looked so cute. It changed to a picture of them all at Christmas, around a massive tree and swimming in presents. I glanced over at Edward in time to see him gulp.

The final picture that I had already uploaded was of me and him. Jane had taken it during one of our drinking parties. I was sitting sideways on his lap, blissfully unaware that a picture was about to be taken. But Edward knew so he leaned down and kissed my lips just as the flash went off. It was my favorite picture of us.

"I love it. Thank you," he replied quietly. I brushed his hair back from his face and smiled.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm great. I haven't had pictures of them since I left. Thank you so much, Bella."

That night while we laid in our hotel bed I thought about how long we had been together—nearly four months—and if time really mattered. Did the fact that we had only been together for four months somehow mean that our love wasn't the same as people that had been dating a year? Edward and I had been through more shit in four months than some people who have been together for five years. I loved him. I couldn't imagine my life without him.

I was already starting to picture it. And I knew that I couldn't do that. That it was dangerous.

I knew I wanted Edward forever.

But maybe he didn't feel the same way.

"Stop thinking so loudly," Edward said in the darkness. I laughed and rolled over, barely able to make out his face in the dimness.

"How do you know that I'm thinking?" I asked.

"Because I know you. You're not asleep because you haven't mumbled once. And you're ridiculously still, so you're not uncomfortable. Plus, every time that you are thinking about something serious, you always scoot just out of my reach, like you're afraid that I'll touch you and know your thoughts or something dumb like that."

"Fine. You know me better than I do. I was thinking."

"What about?"

I didn't really want to tell him that I was thinking about a wedding, children, growing old together. You don't say shit like that to people you've been dating four months. That's usually enough to convince them to run.

"The future."

"Isn't that more Alice's territory?" he asked. I didn't answer immediately, so he came back with a follow-up. "What specifically about the future is causing you to do mental gymnastics?"

I let out a huge breath. "I'm scared. I'm fucking terrified of how I feel about you. I thought that I was more rational and practical than this. I thought I was analytical, but it turns out that I'm a girl. And I'm worried that you aren't as invested in me as I am in you."

He seemed confused. "You're doubting how I feel about you? I'm with you on my second least favorite day of the year. I let you in on the most intimate and painful secrets of my life. I gave you my mother's twenty thousand dollar necklace. And, despite all of this, you doubt me?"

"Fuck," I muttered under my breath and not just because of the price of the necklace. "I know you love me. I just wasn't sure if you wanted to be with me. Okay, that doesn't sound any better. Just pretend I didn't say anything and let me go hide under a rock for being the shittiest girlfriend ever."

"No, Bella, you brought this up. We're not going to leave it unresolved. Talk to me." He wasn't being harsh with me, which would have been a reasonable response since I was being a self-centered bitch again.

I had caused this mess. Now I had to put on my big girl panties and deal with it. Honesty. "I want you in my life. For as long as you'll let me be a part. I love you. And I can imagine a future for us. I'm not saying that to rush you or push you into something that you aren't ready for, because I really do like how we are now. I guess my entire point is that I love you and I want us to stay together."

Edward started laughing. It wasn't mocking. It wasn't cruel. "Bella, you are so oblivious sometimes. Or maybe I'm just not as painfully obvious as I think I am. I don't know how else to show you that I want to be with you. Another piece of expensive jewelry perhaps? Romantic getaway to the Bahamas?"

"No," I said quietly, recoiling from the idea that he was going to spend outrageous sums of money on me.

"Then trust what I say and do. I love you. I want you. That's not going to change."

"I'm an awful girlfriend."

"Maybe, but you're my awful girlfriend," he joked.

When I woke up the next morning, I felt both hot and cold. The blankets were thrown off of me, leaving me in tiny shorts and a tank top, vulnerable to the chill of the hotel room. But Edward's tongue was tracing along my hop bones, a trail of burning flesh left in its wake. "Oh, god," I gasped.

"You can call me 'god' now if you want, but I want you screaming 'Edward' when you cum."

I laughed, but my breath caught in my throat as both of his hands began to message my breasts. Edward leaned forward and kissed my lips passionately. He slipped his tongue into my mouth and studied it as if he was trying to cram for a big test, leaving no part overlooked.

His hands slipped away from my breasts and slid down my sides, slowly easing over every rib, while his lips moved to my jaw. My neck. My collarbone. Edward then pulled off my tiny tank top. The fabric brushed against my already sensitive nipples and made me hiss in anticipation.

He sucked dotingly on each nipple, my body already screaming out for release. Edward knew all of my buttons to push, what to do to turn me on. I was almost ready to beg. I hardly ever begged. Usually I could tease Edward enough to or I would tell him what I wanted and he would give it to me without question. But I had the feeling that he wasn't going to make this easy on me.

He kissed down my stomach to the waistband of my shorts, stopping long enough to look at me and smirk. Then, instead of going down, Edward decide to kiss up my body. He licked a long trail from the hollow at the base of my neck up to my ear as my body squirmed, searching desperately for some kind of friction.

Edward grabbed my hips firmly and pressed me tightly against the bed so that I couldn't move at all.

His warm breath hit the cool trail on my neck that his tongue had just made and it made me shiver. "Here is what is going to happen, Bella," he said with total confidence. Yes, he would be the one in charge today. "If you're a good girl and do what I tell you, you'll get your release. If not…Do you understand?"

"Yes," I said quietly.

"Good girl. I want you to suck on my cock." Wetness pooled in my panties and the desire for friction intensified and he released my waist.

As soon as Edward lay down, I pulled off his gray boxer shorts and threw them to the ground. And then I crawled between his legs, eager to taste him again. I made eye contact with him as I took the head in my mouth, sucking gently. Edward moaned loudly and I smiled to myself, glad that I knew his body as well as he knew mine. I took his entire length into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the head and I pulled away. And then I took his cock in again, this time grazing my teeth along him and earning a "Fuck, Bella."

I looked at him for a few seconds, propped up on pillows moaning in ecstasy as his eyes fluttered open and shut behind his glasses frames. Apparently, I was gawking too long, because Edward's hand tangled in my hair and pushed my head back down. "Be a good girl and do as you are told," he said sternly, slapping my ass with his other hand.

I was a strong independent woman who didn't take crap from any man. But, fuck me, there was something about Edward ordering me around that made me slippery, probably because he never did. Maybe that sent feminism back a century, but, holy fuck, I would willingly be Edward's 'good girl' any day of the week.

I took him back into my mouth as Edward started to thrust up to meet my licks and sucks. He set the pace and I followed. He was the one in control. I could tell he was close, because his grunts were coming at quicker intervals. And his stomach muscles were taut.

"Stop," he said, trying to pull me away from him. But he was so close. One more lick and he would be done for.

So I sucked his head into my mouth and he came hard. I swallowed greedily and waited for his body to calm. His mouth was in a frown, but his eyes betrayed the pleasure that he had felt.

He grabbed a pillow. "Lay down," he ordered and I immediately complied. Edward lifted me up and put the pillow underneath my ass. And then he took off my shorts and panties both of which were soaked.

"You just couldn't help being naughty, could you?" he asked. "It seems you are incapable of doing what I ask of you. And you know what that means."

Edward leaned down and licked my aching slit, my entire body burning in pleasure. I groaned and wiggled my hips. His large hands clasped down on me.

"No, no. Good girls get release. Bad girls don't."

I could tell he was being serious and it made me feel like I was on fire.

"Please," I begged quietly.

"Please what?" he asked with the sexiest grin.

"Please. I'm sorry that I didn't listen to you," I tried again.

"Tell me what you want me to do to you. Do you want my fingers?" I shook my head. He smiled. "My mouth?" I shook my head again. "My cock?" I nodded quickly.

"I want to ride your cock."

He smirked. "Why should I let you have what you want when you disobeyed me earlier?"

I honestly couldn't think of a good reason. "Please. I'm sorry I was bad. I'll do anything." Edward leaned down to lick along my slit again. The bucking of my hips only prevented by his strong hands. I was so close. I needed him so badly. "Please."

He pulled my body up. Then he laid back down on the bed, hard again for me. Maybe I needed to beg more often for him, because he looked like he was about to explode and I hadn't even touched him. Without any pretense or ceremony, Edward grabbed me by the waist, spread my legs so that I was straddling his hips, and then pushed me down. The second he entered me, I came and I screamed so loudly that the neighbors started banging on the wall.

Edward chuckled.

Stars blinded by vision and my body shook. And it was beautiful. When I opened my eyes, I looked down at Edward and he was smiling so wide.

His hands gripped my hips as we thrust in time with one another. In and out. In and out. I leaned back against his thighs, changing the angle so that he could penetrate deeper, causing both of us to groan. We were both so wired, so sensitive, that neither of us lasted very long before we came again.

I collapsed on his chest, kissing the tattoo on his heart.

"Was that…okay?" he asked nervously.

I looked at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, the ordering and the begging and everything. Did I take it too far?"

I smiled. "No. It was sexy as fuck. I thoroughly enjoyed myself. And I know you did too. But next time I get to be in charge."

"You're always in charge."


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: I don't even know where to start. I love you all. You're great. And the encouragement and feedback I get are one of my motivations for writing. Also, I hear that I'm being pimped out. That's awesome. I feel like Jane, except for, not. Anyway, I just wanted to say how awesome you are. And how bad I feel for not getting this posted sooner. Stupid writer's block. I think I'm good though. Oh, and a little heads up, starting next week updates are going to be spaced out a little more because I start classes and I need to, you know, not flunk out of college. Tell me what you think of the chapter.

Disclaimer: Don't own Twilight or Biz Markie.

* * *

We finally dragged our asses out of bed and over to my dad's house around noon—the time that Leah had claimed she would make it to Forks from Nepal or Reno or Tahiti or wherever she was this week. There was not a doubt in my mind that when Leah finally stumbled in, probably hours late, that I wouldn't recognize her. She wouldn't be the same ferocious girl who told me that I was 'dicking around' with Jacob and needed to stop leading him on when I clearly had no affections for him and let someone else have their chance. Come to find out 'someone else' meant Leah.

They were great together—Leah and Jacob. They had the same fire and passion, but he was really laidback and she was tense. They helped each other find a balance. The wedding was supposed to be in August when he got back from Afghanistan. I had been doing e-mail correspondence with Leah while I was in Seattle at school to keep up with my maid of honor duties. I still had the e-mails in my inbox that I couldn't delete—pictures of her dress, flower arrangements, centerpieces, and Jake's tux.

It wasn't that Leah and I had been particularly close when Jake proposed. We had hung out a few times. Honestly, Leah was rough around the edges and didn't have many female friends, so Jake took it upon himself to give me to Leah. I guess we became friends for those ten months that he was gone. After the funeral though, she left. Just packed a bag and took off without telling any of us where she was going or when she was coming back.

Edward put both of his hands on my knees to try and keep them from bouncing up and down nervously. We were all sitting in the living room with the same clown face painted on. It was impossible to hide the anxiety that hovered around us all. And the second that we heard a car pull up, we all froze. Well, all of us except for Seth froze; he rolled his eyes and lay down on the couch putting his feet on my lap, which I quickly pushed to the floor. He scowled at me and it may have been the first time that I had ever seen Seth be intentionally unpleasant.

The front door opened and she walked in just as beautiful as I remembered—long brown hair, copper skin, eyelashes that make mascara companies wet themselves--albeit skinnier and with a few more piercings. She looked as nervous as we all felt. The second that Leah opened her mouth to say something, Seth climbed off of the couch, walked right past her, and slammed the door on his way out.

Sue started crying and Leah just stood there like she was ashamed. Edward pulled on my hand, forcing me to stand up with him. "We'll go get him," he said to Charlie, who just nodded back in response.

I knew where Seth would be—the woods behind the house—because that's where he felt the most comfortable. I didn't really understand why. The woods scared the shit out of me, but I guess that him growing up here and living near them all his life might play a factor. Still, I would have been terrified or bears or wolves or scary ax murderers.

Seth was sitting on a log just a little bit down the trail. He didn't even look at us, just stared straight ahead. "Fuck off. I'm not going back inside. I don't want to see her."

"Seth, that's your sister," I said and Edward grabbed my arm.

"No, my sister ran away. I don't know who that girl is."

I tried to speak but Edward shook his head so slightly that I almost didn't catch it.

"You don't have to see her. That's your right," Edward said.

"Damn right it is."

"I mean, she abandoned you when you needed her. She just took off like a selfish brat. You lost Jake too."

"Yeah," Seth said quietly. I was still trying to figure out what Edward was playing at.

"I ran away too," Edward said, making Seth look at him curiously. "When my parents died. I didn't know how to deal with it. It felt like my entire world was melting around me—my future, my plans, my family—and I couldn't bear to watch it, so I ran, leaving my brother to deal with it by himself."

Seth stood up. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because when my brother and I were in the same room again after all those years apart, he forced me to listen to him. I didn't like what he said; it pissed me off when he said I was being selfish and hiding from the world, but I needed to hear it. Just like your sister needs to hear about how much it hurt you when she ran. You don't have to be cruel, but she does need to hear it."

He sighed. "She doesn't deserve that much. How could she do that? How could _you_ do that? To your brother?"

I watched as Edward swallowed slowly.

I had wondered the same thing. If you loved someone how could you just leave? My mom had done it time and time again. She would come home after a weekend or however long away with one of her men and I would be so happy for a day or two because I convinced myself that she was really going to stay that time. She would say 'never again' and I, like the naïve child that I was, believed her. Then Friday would roll around and she would be gone again. It destroyed me. I felt like there was something wrong with me, some reason that I wasn't enough to keep her there.

It wasn't like when she was there, she really paid attention to me. But at least she was there. Even after this went on for years, I still had myself convinced that maybe this would be the last time she disappeared for a week without a warning. It never was. And I couldn't keep living my life with that kind of false hope surrounding me. I didn't run; I could have run but I didn't. I stuck around and made it final between me and my mom, ending it. Only then did I leave.

But to just leave without any resolution…I didn't understand that.

"I fucked up, Seth," Edward replied. "I ruined my relationship with my brother and I'm still trying to fix it. I wasn't strong enough to deal with everything, so I tried to hide. And it didn't work."

Seth kicked a rock absently, staring down at his feet. "What the hell am I supposed to say to her?"

"Are you mad at her?" Seth nodded. "Are you happy that she's back?" He nodded again. "Did you miss her?"

"I guess," he replied.

"Tell her that."

Seth rolled his eyes. "You make everything sound so easy."

"It's not," he replied. "Life is hard. Sometimes it hurts. And sometimes it is amazing. But you have to take the painful stuff with the good stuff." I squeezed Edward's hand.

"Fine. I'll go back in the house. But you are getting me the new Call of Duty game for my birthday." Edward laughed quietly.

"Okay. Deal."

Seth took off ahead of us. And Edward and I followed behind him slowly. I put his arm around my shoulders so that I could snuggle into him. It was December and it was colder than a fucking snow cone outside.

"You bribed him," I said simply.

"He was going to go anyway. Just let him think that he had the upper hand in the deal. Plus, I already planned on getting the game for him so it's not like I was losing money by agreeing to it."

Seth went inside the house, while we were still far off. Just a few seconds later, Charlie came out of the house and walked to his police car, starting it up. He motioned for Edward and I to get in so we climbed into the back, into the warmth of the heater. Charlie backed out the driveway and started driving, not telling us where we were going; he didn't seem to know himself.

"I figured that they all probably needed a few minutes alone," he finally said as we past the high school. That place held very few good memories for me. I only had one true friend when it was all said and done, but we had drifted after high school. Angela went to school in California and I stayed in Seattle.

Edward brushed his fingers through my wind-tangled hair, but there was no hope for it. I curled into his side in hopes that his body heat would be able to warn me, but, alas, he was just as cold as I was. Still, he rubbed my back and arms in an effort to create friction. It worked slightly. Even numb with cold was okay with Edward by my side.

I saw Charlie peek at us in the rearview mirror and shake his head.

"What?" I asked. "I thought you liked us together." Edward looked down and smiled.

Charlie snorted. "I'd probably like you guys together a little more if there were a few inches of space between you."

I rolled my eyes. "Dad."

The endearment was something that I had no use for during the first fifteen years of my life. Renee never spoke about Charlie, never even mentioned the word "father." For all I knew, I was a virgin birth—me and Jesus. Even after the emancipation, I wasn't sure whether or not I wanted to find him. I wondered if maybe I should just accept the fact that I had shit parents who should have never been allowed to reproduce in the first place. But curiosity finally got the best of me and I gave in, hired a private detective, and tracked him down.

I still remember standing in the rain outside of his house, trying to decide whether or not I should knock. And then he came outside. I always thought that I looked like Renee, but that was until I met Charlie. Our eyes and hair were exactly the same shade of brown—and even our temperaments were similar. He asked who I was and what I was doing standing in his front lawn. I eyed his holster and the uniform and I gulped.

"I believe that I'm your daughter," I had said.

And then he had said, "I doubt that." But I didn't believe him. He had to see how much we looked alike.

"I don't want anything from you, Charles Swan. But my birth certificate lists you as the one who impregnated my mother, so I just thought that you should know. Sixteen years later, here I am."

"You remind me of Renee," he had said.

"If you don't want to know me that's fine, but please don't insult me. I am nothing like that woman." And then he laughed and invited me into the house.

Charlie was always easy to have in my life. He was sturdy and stable in all the ways that Renee was flighty and unpredictable. We didn't have a typical father-daughter relationship. We had both been on our own for so long that it was more like we were neighbors than family, at least at first. After all this time, I'd grown to love him. He was supportive and caring and there. I couldn't imagine a better father. Finding him was one of the best decisions of my life.

I looked up at Charlie who was still staring at us through the rearview mirror. "I love you, Dad."

He wrinkled his forehead in confusion. Neither of us really said it. It was more implied by the fact that we were there for each other. "Love you too, Bells."

"What about me? Do I get any love? Charlie?" Edward asked with a wide grin.

Charlie laughed and shook his head.

I grabbed Edward's chin and turned him to face me. I gave him a quick peck on the lips. "I love you, baby." And I brought my lips back to his.

"Stop that," Charlie said in his 'I'm being serious' voice. "I swear that I'll pull over and you two can walk back to the house."

"Oh please, Charlie. Like I didn't see you and Sue making out at the hospital. And, FYI, I don't think that was probably healthy for someone who just had a heart attack," Edward joked, while I tried to cover my ears, hoping to not hear about my dad kissing.

Charlie merely huffed and continued driving. After about thirty minutes, he drove back to the house. And we all hoped that the storms would be over, leaving a calm in its wake.

When we went back into the house, they were crying. Even big, bad Seth was, though he tried to hide the fact when he saw us come in. He hugged Leah quickly and then went off to whisper something to Edward that apparently I wasn't privy to. As much as I loved the fact that they got along, I have to admit that I was starting to get a little jealous of the bond between Edward and Seth. Seth used to confide in me. They took off outside, back into the cold.

Leah finally looked over at me. "Hey, little Swan. It's been awhile." She wiped the smeared eyeliner away and smiled, but it was still shaky.

"It has, wolf girl. Way too long." Leah laughed again, causing a few left over tears to cascade down her cheeks.

"Oh, I see. We're still playing that game? Wolf girl? Wolves eat swans for breakfast and midnight snacks," she said, using the phrase that she had said to me so many times that it had become an inside joke for us, one of the few we shared. I'm not really sure how the nicknames got started anymore. It was probably Jake's doing.

"Bring it on. I'll fight you. But just know that I'll have my daddy's Glock with me."

She laughed. "Still can't throw a punch?"

Charlie had tried to teach me how to punch years ago, but I always froze up in a situation that would call for it. I could never punch anyone. I wasn't a pacifist; I just couldn't make myself hurt someone else despite the risks to myself.

I looked up to see Charlie and Sue head upstairs. She was still crying and clearly upset. He nodded at me and helped her up the stairs. Charlie was good for her and she was good for him. I was so happy when I found out about the wedding. Charlie had been alone since my mom came like a whirlwind in and out of his life. He deserved a little happiness.

"So," I said, not really knowing where to go from here.

"So," she repeated.

"How was your time away?"

Leah grimaced. "I'm tired of talking about me. Let's talk about you. Or rather the guy that you brought."

My cheeks warmed. For some reason, I actually cared what Leah thought of him and that was stupid. Leah hated everyone.

"His name is Edward. We've been dating four months. And I love him." She raised one eyebrow at 'love.' But then she shrugged as if that wasn't that big of a deal.

"He looks delicious. Well, a little scruffy and unwashed, but, my god, did you see that jaw line? And those eyes. I would kill to be the lucky bitch who got to wake up to him every morning."

"Again, I have my daddy's Glock. Stay away from my boyfriend," I joked. "You're too pretty. You might steal him away from me." She laughed.

"There's no way, little Swan. I've only seen him for a few seconds and I already know that it's an impossible task. You should see the way he looks at you. God, it almost made me start crying all over again. And you know how much I hate tears." She smiled. "So, tell me, how's the sex? He looks like he knows what he's doing."

I glanced toward the stairs and saw that no one was there. I glanced toward the front door; the boys were gone. And then I looked back at Leah, running my fingers through my hair. "It's amazing, mind-blowing, orgasmic. He and I would still be in bed together if your mangy ass hadn't decided to show up." I smiled. "But I'm kind of glad you did. I might have missed you a little bit. I mean, the snide comments, the mood swings, and the complete hatred for all things pink. How could I not?"

She rolled her eyes. "And what about you—acerbic wit, superiority complex, and the ability to make everyone around you feel dumber with one look. God, I've missed you."

Seth came in the front door and looked at both of us smiling. He shook his head. "Hey, come outside for a minute."

I let Leah lead the way. As soon as we were outside, I heard a song playing through the speakers in our rental car. All of the doors were opened so that the sound wouldn't be muffled. By the way that we both laughed, I knew that she recognized it too. It was the song that we had sung together at this crappy karaoke place in Port Angeles. This was before we were close or friends or anything. But it was right after she and Jake started dating, so I was making an effort to not be a total bitch to her. And this was the only song that we could agree on.

"Sing it," Seth shouted over the music, which was loud enough that the neighbors would definitely be reporting us to Charlie.

I giggled and blushed, looking over at Edward. He was smiling, proud of himself that he had thought of this. Seth must have told him the story. And then I glanced at Leah. "I'll sing if you sing."

She looked like she was deliberating as she tilted her head back and forth, but I knew that she would give in. "Okay," she said finally.

We came in together at the chorus, screaming more than singing.

"You, you got what I need but you say he's just a friend.  
And you say he's just a friend, oh baby.  
You, you got what I need but you say he's just a friend.  
But you say he's just a friend, oh baby.  
You, you got what I need but you say he's just a friend.  
But you say he's just a friend."

We probably sounded like dying cats or nails on a chalk board, but it was fun. Leah and I stumbled through the verses, laughing hysterically when we screwed up the lines. Which happened a lot. But every time that the chorus came on we sung as if our lives depended on it. Leah grabbed my arm and made me start dancing with her. I hated dancing usually. This felt different though. I could feel all of the pieces of my world that had broken apart coming back together.

And I liked that feeling.


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: Kind of short, but necessary. Hope you all enjoy it. And, oh, I'm still working on getting the picture of the necklace up on my profile. I'll try to get that done today. Reviews are love.

Disclaimer: Don't own Twilight.

* * *

"Don't you have a party to get to, doc? Can't we just wrap this up?" I asked.

She gestured toward the burgundy leather chair, which meant that I needed to sit my ass back down because we still had fifteen minutes left. It was New Year's Eve. I just wanted to get back to the loft to help Bella finish setting up for the party. It was a huge thing for me to open up that space for everyone. I mean, shit, Rosalie and Emmett were even coming into the place that was my sanctuary away from them. Everything had to be perfect.

"It sounds like you handled the holidays very well. You've made dramatic progress since we first started seeing each other."

"Thanks," I mumbled.

"How are you handling your relationship with Bella?"

I looked at her, trying to figure out what she was really asking. "What do you mean?"

"She is the closest relationship that you've developed since the death of your parents. You love her?"

"Yes," I answered without hesitation. We had been over this already, months ago. This was old news from September. It couldn't be what she really wanted to know.

"And do you see a future with her?"

And there it was.

"Yeah," I said after a few moments of considering this. It wasn't hesitation. But it wasn't exactly an immediate response either. "I want her in my life."

She scribbled a few notes down in my file. "We talk a lot about if how she reacts to all of the things you go through. But how do you handle it when she is going through rough times?"

The question haunted me long after the stupid session. The entire cab ride all I could think about was whether or not I was being selfish with Bella. She always took care of me. Did I ever take care of her? Did I even notice when she was having a bad day or going through a rough patch? It wasn't like her life was smooth sailing either.

She was in the kitchen at the loft dancing around as she made appetizers.

"How long have you been here?" I asked. She was still at the gallery when I left for my appointment with the head shrinker. I had yet to show her the second present for her and I didn't want her accidently catching a glimpse.

"Only a few minutes. Just put the food in the oven. That gives us thirty minutes to either get dressed or to let me have my way with you. I vote for the second one." Bella stalked toward me and wrapped her arms around my neck. Teasingly she brought her lips to mine.

She seemed so happy, so light, so carefree. Before my appointment, I had some semblance of normality. Now, not so much. And like the masochist that I am, I wanted to drag myself through as much agony as possible. "Am I a shitty boyfriend?"

"Edward, that's stupid. Where did that question even come from?" she asked, still kissing the corners of my mouth lightly.

I didn't fail to notice that she had avoided the question. "It was something my shrink said. And it made me wonder if our relationship was one-sided. I want you to be able to depend on me if you need it." If Bella was going through something serious, would I be the first person that she ran to? Or would she just bottle that shit up like she was used to doing?

Bella brushed her fingers over the little bit of stubble on my cheeks that I was sure she would want me to shave before the party. Her eyes were squinted slightly as she stared at me with a perplexed look on her face.

"I don't even know how to respond. You have been amazing to me. You went with me to visit my dad after his heart attack. And you went back for Christmas with me even though I know it was really difficult for you. And you take care of me every time I get so plastered that I can't even think without hurting myself. You gave me a job so that I wouldn't have to kill myself for minimum wage. Edward, you're so selfless all the time with everyone. Not only are you a great boyfriend, you are a great person. I'm lucky to have you in my life. So, don't listen to what that shrink says. I love you."

Bella traced my bottom lip with her thumb as I continued to stare at her. "I love you too."

Her gaze fell to the floor. "Now can I ask you something?" I nodded but she didn't see it.

"Yeah," I replied, scared all over again.

She sighed, not even able to form the question at first. "I know that you run rather than deal with your problems. Or you did in the past." Oh, shit. "Are you…Do you still think that is a possibility? Are you going to run from me eventually? Should I be prepared for that?"

Her question didn't offend me or anger me. It was something that I had thought about numerous times over the course of our relationship, especially after we had a long discussion on her mother and the fucked up ways that she left Bella. She had just been a little girl, not even old enough to take care of herself, but her mom left her alone with a TV and a box of Poptarts as if that was enough.

She had abandonment issues; I knew that she did, that she would always be afraid that I would leave her. And there was no good answer that I could give her to convince her that I would stay. I wasn't even convinced myself. I didn't want to run—I wanted a life with Bella—but I was scared that if it got to be too much for her, if my pain was hurting Bella, that I would leave rather than stay and fight.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right here as long as you need me," I told her. I lied. I couldn't promise that, but the lie flowed easier than the truth. I might leave. It would kill me, destroy me, and I knew that there would be no rescue from that hell. But if it was to protect her from pain, my pain, then I would do it without a second thought.

She realized that it was a lie too. "No matter what might ever happen to between us, you are _not allowed_ to hurt yourself."

"Bella," I replied with a sigh. "Why are we even discussing this? It's a moot point. I'm not leaving." Another possible lie.

She nodded, but didn't look convinced. I faked a smile and went into my bedroom to find my clothes for this shindig. Apparently we were doing the fancy sophisticated thing and dressing up like adults. My outfit was pretty much a repeat of Bella's birthday. But she and Alice went out to buy new dresses. The only thing that really mattered to me was that Bella would be wearing my mom's necklace, which she had yet to show off. She said it was too fancy for everyday wear.

A few minutes later, Bella came into the bedroom, walked through the bathroom where I was trying to tame my uncontrollable hair, and into the walk in closet. We had come to stay at the lost a few times for the weekend and a little privacy, which wasn't a luxury afforded to us at home. Whether on purpose or not, Bella started leaving stuff behind, clothes and books mainly, and the loft was starting to feel more comfortable instead of stark and empty and depressing like it had been.

"Can you zip me up?" she asked with her back to me. I wiped the water off of my hands with a nearby towel and gently pulled up the zipper of her red dress. She looked stunning as she turned around to face me that I nearly forgot why she was all dolled up for.

I wanted to cancel the party and throw her down on the bed, worshipping every inch of her.

She smiled at the look I was giving her. "So I look good then?"

"You're breath-taking," I replied, leaning in to kiss her gently. "Always are."

Bella's hands came up and tied my tie for me. Her smile was light again as if our argument had faded into oblivion. I prayed that it was truly the case.

"Can you help me with the necklace too?" I nodded and followed her back into the closet. She opened a drawer where she kept the box hidden away.

I took the blue box in my hand and carefully opened it. There were diamonds dappled along the platinum chain and a single pearl in the center of it all. The necklace was exquisite. I clasped it around her neck as she looked at me in the mirror. I stared back at her, sliding my arms around her waist and leaning against her.

"Let's cancel the party," she said. "You look too damn fuckable. I'm not going to be able to control myself in a room full of people."

There was knocking on the door

"Shit, they're here." I frowned. "I'll go deal with the guests, so that you can finish getting ready."

"Thank you, babe."

Someone started knocking again, so I ran out of the bedroom.

"One second, geez," I muttered as I pulled the door open, revealing the little pixie and Jasper. We had already made plans for them to crash here tonight in the guest bedroom, so I showed them where they could put their bags. Alice knew that they would end up passing out, so she bought a bed for the guest room…with my credit card.

She wasn't even my girlfriend and she was making me go broke.

"How are you two doing?" I asked as I took the food the Bella had prepared out of the oven and sat it on the countertop to cool.

"We're great. I mean, Jasper still won't sleep with me even though he says he loves me, but whatever. That's apparently not a big deal and I'm blowing it out of proportion," Alice ranted.

Apparently, Bella and I weren't the only one having issues today. And, while that was oddly comforting, it was still way more information about their sex life than I ever wanted to know. Whether or not Alice and Jasper were ever actually sleeping all those nights that they shared a bed wasn't something I needed to find out about. Ever.

I cleared my throat. "Um, Bella's getting ready in our room if you want to go help," I said to Alice, feeling awkward.

She perked right up and skipped off toward my bedroom. Bella would kill me for that later. Of that I was certain.

"Come help me get the food set up," I said to Jasper. He had been eyeing it since I took it out so I was sure he would help me get it ready in exchange for a little snack. Arguing with Alice can leave one tired and hungry. And he looked both. I opened up the refrigerator and pulled out some other crap that Bella had me order last week. I had picked it up this morning.

"Where are we putting it all?" Jasper asked, fiddling with the tie that Alice had put him in.

I shrugged. "You're girlfriend and mine planned this. I'm just on manual labor." He laughed because he clearly understood.

From the first moment Alice and Jasper met, anyone with eyes could see that there was something between them, something implausible and almost supernatural. Their connection was so intense and I always envied it because I had never in my life felt that bonded to anyone. It didn't surprise me that they both tried to hide their feelings for so long, even when they were obvious to everyone else. If you don't admit that you have it, then you can't lose it kind of logic.

Alice and Bella came out a few minutes later and told us what food went where and where the drinks needed to be set up and how we needed to make sure that the punch didn't get spiked because Rosalie was four months along now and if she had to drink just water the entire night, she was going to be pissy.

I didn't tell Bella that she would probably be pissy anyway. One, she's Rosalie; she's always pissy. Two, she's pregnant and I couldn't be held responsible for her mood swings. And three, Bella was wearing my mom's necklace. That would probably be what pissed her off the most. I had taken it along with my dad's cufflinks when I left. They were my favorite things of theirs and I needed a connection to them. But, of course, Rose always had her eye on that necklace.

Jane arrived next with a date—some tall, pale, weird man. It seemed like her type. Alec wasn't far behind her, but poor bastard was alone. I made a mental note to invite Leah to come stay in Chicago. Who knows? Maybe they would hit it off. Or maybe she would eat him alive. He'd probably like that.

Then finally Emmett and my future sister-in-law came in. I had pretty much resigned myself to the fact that a wedding was going to happen, much to my chagrin. He claimed that he loved her, that she made him happy, so whatever. I couldn't be a selfish dick forever.

Bella greeted them and I watched from the other side of the room in case I needed to swoop in. I watched Emmett glance at the necklace. His gaze found mine across the room and he laughed, but it kind of freaked me out a bit. Rosalie's eyes bugged out of her head and she grabbed Emmett's arm.

I figured it was time to swoop.

I put my arm around Bella's waist and smiled at Em and Rose. Her glare could make a person burst into flames. She was the reason for spontaneous human combustion.

"She's wearing your mom's necklace," Rose said, her voice shaking.

"I know," I replied. "I gave it to her."

She sighed loudly and looked at Em. "Isn't that great? Edward gave her the necklace," Rosalie replied through clenched teeth.

"Is something wrong?" Bella asked quietly.

"Yes, there is," she replied.

Emmett shook his head. "Rosie."

"He gave her the necklace. Well, first he stole it, hid it for years, and then he gave it to the first girl who would put with his shit on a regular basis."

I took a step forward, suddenly losing all those years of etiquette lessons and willing to punch a pregnant woman. Bella grabbed my arm and jerked me back, causing me to stumble off balance. Then she started fiddling with the clasp of her necklace, taking it off and dangling it in the air in front of her.

"If you want the necklace that damn bad, you can have it. But do not insult me or Edward over this. It just makes you look like a gold-digging whore."

Rosalie reached up to take the necklace from Bella's grasp, but Emmett got to it first. He took a step closer to Bella and fastened it back around her neck. It shocked me. Em was always a wild card for me. I never knew if he would side with Rosalie or me; he had his reasons and I never faulted him, but it made him unpredictable.

He looked at Rose. "It's Bella's necklace now. I know you wanted it, but it was never yours. It was my mom's. And Edward had as much claim to it as I did. I love you, Rosie, but you need to decide which you love more—me or my parent's money."


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: Just a few more days before I leave. I'm trying to get you as many chapters as I can before Sunday. The response for last chapter was ridiculous. Apparently, you all hate Rosalie. Tell me how this chapter goes.

Disclaimer: Don't own Twilight. That belongs to SM.

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From Chapter 21: "It's Bella's necklace now. I know you wanted it, but it was never yours. It was my mom's. And Edward had as much claim to it as I did. I love you, Rosie, but you need to decide which you love more—me or my parent's money."

She blinked several times as if she couldn't believe what was going on. Had Emmett really just snatched his mother's necklace out of her grasp and put it back on me? Had he called her out in front of me and Edward—quite possibly the two people who hated her the most? Yep. That shit just went down. And Rosalie wasn't taking it well.

I knew that stress was bad for the baby, but I was kind of happy that Em was putting her in her place. Edward, however, looked upset. He was never on Rosalie's side, so I didn't know what that was about. Maybe his thoughts had drifted to someone murdering kittens or small children or something.

"Emmett, I've loved you since freshman orientation. Way before I knew anything about your dad's money."

Rose shook her head and just walked past us toward the table with all of the drinks. Em sighed loudly and ran his fingers through his hair. "Happy New Year. And the necklace really does look good on you, firecracker." And he winked at me, before following after his angry fiancée.

"I think there's something in the water or something," Edward mumbled. He still looked upset and confused. "Everyone is fighting today."

His face fell like he blamed himself for everyone else being mad at each other. "Come on," I said, pulling his arm toward the table. "Let's get you something to drink."

I should have known better than to let him have his shrink appointment just a few hours before the party. Because, regardless of how far we had come as a couple and being honest with each other, Edward never talked about anything his shrink said until today. Something that she said had inadvertently upset him and made him think that I didn't trust him or depend on him in the same way that he depended on me. Normally, I would have wanted to talk through our issues instead of push them aside, but he kind of shut down on me.

He did that sometimes.

And it scared me.

I didn't want to think that Edward could just leave me, but he had done it before. He ran from Emmett. He pushed me away the morning after we had sex, instead of talking to me. He took off when he couldn't deal with the news about Emmett and Rosalie's baby. Edward ran.

He ran away from people when things got tough for him. And up until recently I had been pretty good at keeping people at bay. It was easier. That way when they left, I wasn't attached, had no reason to miss them. I loved Edward. More than I probably should, more than was healthy. I let him in. And I couldn't ignore the look in his eyes as he fed me some line about never leaving me. We both knew.

It was just a matter of time. A bad fight. Breaking down and cutting again. Something was going to set us off and he was going to run. It would destroy me.

Alice approached us, glaring at me. Everyone was fighting today. She cleared her throat and took my hand. "Edward, I need to borrow Bella for a little bit." He nodded, grabbing a Heineken and turning to talk to Alec about his doctorate program.

She led me into Edward's room and sat down on the bed. I was sure that I knew what was coming. She was going to tell me that Edward wasn't going to leave me. And I needed to stop overreacting and enjoy the damn party.

"Don't leave us," she whispered. And then she blinked, tears in her eyes.

What?

"What? I'm not leaving. Edward is. Right?" I swallowed.

She closed her eyes, a few tears managing to fall freely. "I can only tell you what I saw, Bella. You packed up your bags in the middle of the night. You didn't even say goodbye. But you left Edward a note. Fuck. You destroyed him." Alice wiped the tears. "Don't push him away because you think that he's doing the same thing to you. He's not."

"Are you sure?" I asked. How could I be the one leaving? I wouldn't just do that. I wouldn't just push him away, would I?

My throat felt like it was closing in, anaphylactic shock or some shit like that. I couldn't breathe. It had been years since I promised myself that I would never be like my mom, that I would never run from the people who loved me, from the people I loved. So why would I even consider it? Was it because I was afraid of him hurting me? Hurt him before he can hurt me?

"I can't be one hundred percent, but he's not even considering running at this point. He wants to be with you."

I wasn't going to leave him; I couldn't.

I got up off the bed and went into the bathroom, drinking tap water from the faucet and trying to ignore the fact that I was probably going to die because of it. The revolting liquid helped to ease some of the swelling in my throat. I looked in the mirror and saw the tears that I hadn't known had fallen and I wiped them away. Alice came in next to me and fixed her smeared eyeliner. Then she wrapped her arms around my waist.

"I love you, Bella. You and Edward are supposed to be together. I know it. I see it."

I gave her a hug. "Love you too, Alice." And then I looked down. "I know that I was a bitch to you when we first moved in about your visions, but, seriously, let me know if you see me doing something stupid to jeopardize my relationship with Edward."

"I will." She smiled. "Ugh. I need vodka."

I wrinkled my forehead and laughed once. "Aren't you eighteen? You're not even old enough."

She threw her arms up in the air. "You sound like Jasper now. I drink with you guys all the time. And I'm eighteen. It's not like I'm a little kid; I'm an adult. And he fucking loves me. Or so he says. So I don't know why he won't…" She crossed her arms over her chest and pouted, almost undermining her entire argument. Somehow she still managed to pull off her point though.

"What's really wrong?" I asked as I led her back into the bedroom.

"I don't know. Suddenly he has issues with our age difference. I'm eighteen. He's twenty-six. That's not that bad."

"You guys will work it out. I know you will," I said to her. Alice and Jasper had both told me how much they loved each other. Just like she knew that Edward and I were supposed to be together, I knew that they were made for each other. "Come on, you forced me to buy this ridiculously over-priced dress. We are not hiding out in the bedroom all night. Time to drink and flirt with our men."

She smiled and nodded, standing up and smoothing out her wrinkle-free blue dress. "You're right. We're too pretty to be hidden away."

To get to Edward, who looked fuck-hot and was still talking to Alec, I had to walk past Rosalie and Emmett who were whisper-yelling. He kept running his fingers through his hair—similar to how Edward often did, but more difficult because of his short, curly hair. And Rosalie made huge hand gestures, putting her very pregnant body to good use. I could barely make out what they were saying but the words "love" and "money" and "parents" and "baby" were thrown around a lot.

Alice and I parted ways and I continued on to my man. I came up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist, leaning in to feel the subtle warmth radiating off his body. He placed his right palm on top of mine. I wasn't going to let go of him; I was afraid I would fulfill Alice's vision if I let go, so I held him tighter and pressed my cheek against his back.

"That's amazing, Alec. You'll have to get me a copy of your dissertation. I definitely want to read it," he said.

"It's like a million pages long. I already promised that one," meaning me, "a copy, but if you want your own I can do that too."

Edward laughed. I loved that sound. He didn't laugh enough in my book. He was always so serious. We were always so serious. "She's not very good at sharing, but I bet I can convince her." Alec joined in his laughter.

"Bella, why are you hiding behind him?"

"I'm not hiding," I replied as Edward's hand rubbed slowly against mine. "I'm holding onto him."

"Do you think that you can come around here, babe?" Edward asked and I didn't hear any of our fights or arguments or sadness or anything in his voice. "Unlike a woman, I don't have eyes in the back of my head and I can't admire your beauty properly from back there."

I didn't release him, opting to instead just slide under his arm and come around to his side. He threw his arm lazily over my shoulders. And then he looked down at me with a smile. And everything felt easy at that moment. Maybe Edward wasn't the one that I should be worried about. It seemed that I was the one making everything more difficult. No more. I'd always lived my life on a precarious schedule. It was time for me to relax that a bit.

"I love you."

One half of his mouth rose higher, making his smile slightly crooked. But perfect.

"I love you, Bella."

The rest of the night was simple. I did my best to shut off my thoughts, my plans, my negative emotions and just enjoy that I was here in Chicago at a loft party on New Year's Eve with the man that I loved. I never let him go as we talked to our guests—laughing with some and quietly whispering with others. And when midnight finally came, his lips found mine.

And despite my plans to only think about the present and things that I could actually control, I knew that this was how I wanted to start off every year—kissing Edward.

The guests began to ease out shortly after midnight. Rosalie and Emmett were the firsts to go. I was surprised that they had managed to stay that long without killing each other or us, but it seemed Em was taking the reins and he said that they were staying. Alec ditched next, claiming that he had another party to get to. I think he was just tired of being the only one not paired off—I would have been. Then finally Jane and her guy, Marcus, left.

Alice and Jasper started cleaning up, but I just waved them off, saying that we could do that in the morning. They went into the guest bedroom to argue or fuck or something. Edward helped me put the leftover appetizers away. Edward helped mostly because I refused to release his hand and he said that he felt guilty just following me around without being of use. I told him all he had to do was stand there and look pretty.

He joked and called me sexist and said that I was objectifying him. But he didn't mind it. Edward enjoyed being eye-candy.

When I woke up the next morning, he was asleep on his stomach with his face turned toward me. I brushed back his sweaty hair before lifting his arm so that I could slide off the bed. I took the risk that Alice and Jasper would still be their room instead of the living room and walked out of Edward's room in only his boxers and the white button-up shirt that he had worn at the party.

My gamble paid off because the living room and kitchen were empty. The first thing I did was start the coffee maker. Edward only drank coffee when he was really tired or after dinner. I, however, liked to have coffee in the morning. It was a habit that lost when we started spending all of our mornings together, but he insisted that that much caffeine wasn't good for me—this from the guy who has a bong collection in his bedroom.

After I got the coffee going, I searched through the cabinets for the box of pancake mix and syrup that I had snuck in here weeks ago. I made the mix up and started the pancakes.

I wanted us to have a relaxing day. Everything had been so fucking heavy lately that even I felt like I was suffocating. We could be stupid, watch movies in bed all day and never leave the loft. Or we could just make love the entire day over and over again. Both ideas had their perks.

"I can see that smile from all the way over here."

I turned to look at Edward, standing in the door way of his room and wearing only his boxers. He looked as happy as I felt. I looked down, flipping the last pancake onto a plate.

"Why are you thinking about?" he asked as he walked toward me, no doubt following his stomach toward the smell of food.

"You. Only you. Always you." I handed him the plate, which he gladly took. "I want to be lazy today."

"Then you shouldn't have gotten out of bed so fucking early and made breakfast." I rolled my eyes and brought him the syrup at the table, before going back into the kitchen to get a cup of coffee.

"That's not what I meant. I meant that I want us to do nothing all day, just spend time together. Maybe we could go to the zoo again." I smiled, knowing how he would react to that suggestion.

He snorted and shoveled a bite of food into his mouth. The second that he swallowed, he clarified. "It's January. It's freezing outside. And I hate the fucking zoo. I'm never taking our kids to the zoo."

My breathing suddenly shifted dramatically, but I took a sip of my coffee to hide it, wondering if he realized what he had just said. _Our_ kids. Him and I. Children that belong to us. Ours. Edward continued eating as if he was oblivious to his slip. Was it a slip? Did he mean that?

I didn't know whether to bring it up or not, so I didn't. Better to be safe than sorry. Or something like that.

"So, besides the zoo, what else did you have in mind for today?"

"Nothing in particular. I just want to be with you."

He swallowed another bite. "I have a few movies here if you want to watch them or there is a video rental place, like, half a block away. It's pretty good. They have lots of indie and art films, plus all of the major releases. Or we could watch TV. There's got to be a movie marathon on some channel. Or, I don't know. Something."

I smiled. "Let's just watch whatever you have. I don't want to leave."

"What about Alice and Jasper?"

"Who?" I asked, shrugging our shoulders.

He laughed. "Our guests." Again with the 'our.' "Our best friends. The people asleep in that bedroom over there."

"Doesn't ring a bell," I replied. He stopped eating and tilted his head slightly to the side. "We'll deal with them when they wake up. They can stay or go or fly to the moon. Nothing else matters today as long as you are with me."


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: There will hopefully be one more chapter by Sunday. I'm typing and packing and downloading large quantiities of new music in preparation for my relocation. You all are great and I love you guys. Tell me what you think of this chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or 28 Days later, but I have seen Jimmy Fallon's parody of Robert Pattinson and it is hilarious.

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_28 Days Later_ was playing on the television in Edward's room—he called it our room—as we sat on the bed playing war. I had managed to cheat a few times and swipe the cards when he was busy staring at my boobs. I had strategically let down a few buttons so that he had a better view. Edward was good at everything and I needed an advantage.

He threw down a seven. I had a six. I tried to take them, but he grabbed my hands.

"Cheater," he exclaimed, his jaw dropping slightly. I bit my lip and looked away. "How long has this been going on?"

"Awhile."

Edward grabbed the cards from my hand and threw them on the floor with his, pouting out his bottom lip as they scattered in a random formation. I gasped, but he didn't seem at all moved. "I'm not playing with you anymore. Cheater." He put his hands on my hips and pulled my down on top of him.

"I'm sorry," I offered.

"No, you're not."

I laughed. "You're right. I'm not."

It had been a good day for us so far. Breakfast had gone smoothly, even if Edward had been using the word 'our' a little bit more than I would have liked. Jasper and Alice had stumbled out of the guest room in nearly the same state of undress as Edward and I. I gave them both coffee to wake them up, but it didn't seem to help either of them. They looked upset and left shortly after they finished the coffee.

We went back to Edward's room and went through the limited selection of movies that he kept at the loft. About halfway through the first movie, we decided to play war. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but, of course, so had cheating him out of cards. We stopped for a late lunch and then went back to our game, playing for hours.

I loved being with Edward. Just him and I. Yes, I saw him at work, but that was different—we were both so busy with our respective shit that it wasn't intimate. The building was always busy; I loved the chaos, but sometimes I just wanted a break. And our entire vacation was spent being surrounded by people.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked, looking down into his eyes.

"Why do you always do that? You preface your question with another question. Just ask, Bella. You know I'll answer you if I can," he replied. I had never realized it, but I did do that a lot.

"It was just…I mean, at breakfast you mentioned something about kids…about taking them to the zoo. Or rather, not taking them to the zoo," I stumbled through, not even getting to the question portion and already wanting to give up.

"You act like you're scared. Of me. Or the question. Or my reaction. Something," he replied, way too damn perceptive for his own good.

"Do you want kids?" I spit out as quickly as the words formed on my tongue. "You talked about kids this morning and I realized that was the first time that you had ever spoken about children. Besides, in the context of Emmett and Rosalie. And I just…I don't know. I guess I was surprised."

Edward rolled us over, so that we were lying side by side. I was worried and couldn't look at him for fear of what I might see—anger or sadness or confusion. I focused my gaze on the television, zombies attacking soldiers and a really hot guy covered in blood.

"I want kids eventually," he said plainly. "But I'm twenty-two; I'm not exactly in a rush. I'm not going to replace your birth control pills with Tic-Tacs or poke holes in the condoms or anything stupid like that to intentionally get you pregnant. Why? Do you want kids?"

I kept my eyes on the television screen, forcing myself not to look at him. "I don't know," I answered honestly. "I just…I don't want to screw some poor kid up and I don't know that I'm the best person to be put in charge of someone else's life."

"I don't," he stopped himself and sighed. "Was there a reason behind your question? Are you…?"

I shook my head quickly, still not looking at him. I wasn't really sure why anymore. The question was over. We had given our answers.

"No. I was just curious."

He put his hand under my chin, tilting my head so that I was looking at him. "Can I ask you a question now?" His pure green eyes looked endless, like I could melt right into them and be lost for all time.

I nodded and gulped simultaneously. "You don't have to preface your question with a question." I tried to make it a joke, but my voice was a little shaky. Something about his eyes unsettled me and comforted me at the same time.

"I love you. You know that, right? You believe that, right?" he asked earnestly.

"I don't like where this is headed," I muttered quietly, but he still heard every word. Our distance didn't exactly afford us the luxury of not being overheard. "Yeah. I know that you love me."

I did. I believed that. I believed it as much as anyone can believe in the love of another. Edward was protective and thoughtful with me. He looked out for my best interests and pushed me to be my best. He loved me. And I loved him.

"Okay, well, remember that because I can't think of a way to make my question sound less…bad. What's with you today? And last night? We had the argument and whatever and you seemed distant, which was fine if you needed your space. Then you went off with Alice and when you came back you were…clingy, I guess is the right word. And, I mean, I don't care; I love being with you. It just feels like there is another reason, something else going on."

He wasn't harsh or cruel. He really sounded like he was just confused and trying to understand the paradox that was my mood swings. Could I tell him about Alice's vision? Should I tell him? Would that just cause another fight? I had pretty much accused him of eventually leaving me yesterday. Was it right to tell him that it was actually me who was going to run? And I was so afraid of this that I literally didn't want to let go of him.

No. I couldn't.

But what was I supposed to tell him in lieu of the truth?

"Things have just felt different between us lately. And I didn't want us to lose what we had. We're good together," I said.

That was kind of the truth, just not the truth that he had asked for.

"It has been different. You're right. But we'll be okay." Edward was trying to reassure me and it just made me feel like shit. He needed to stop being good to me. Soon he was going to find a way to blame himself for the tension between us and then I was going to break down.

Why did I lie?

Why was I so fucking afraid that he was going to leave? That I was going to leave?

Why couldn't I let him completely in? Wasn't that what I asked him to do to me all the time? Let me in. Let me in. It was my mantra to him. And he did. He trusted me with everything—his family, his depression, his art, his cutting, his heart. And I kept shutting him out. That's why it messed me up so much when he asked if I really trusted him with all of my shit. Because I didn't. I hid it from him. Time and time again.

I was wrong when I claimed that I would never run. I'd been running all my life—emotionally and personally—just not physically. My body would stay there but my mind would go.

"Let's talk about something else," I said quietly.

"Okay," Edward replied, bring his lips to mine for a quick kiss. "I'm thinking about moving to the loft permanently."

"What?" I replied, sitting up in shock.

His forehead creased from worry or confusion. "I haven't decided yet, but I have been thinking about it."

"Why?" I lay back down beside him, trying to relax.

Edward took my hand, obviously needing contact between us. "I stayed these past two years at the building for Alice. She wasn't able to take care of herself. She can now and she has Jasper. I love living there, but I don't intend to spend the rest of my life going between your and my bedrooms. I want something more permanent, something stable. And I love what you've done with the loft; I have a few of my paintings that I want to hang up. This place feels like home." He paused and looked at me, concern evident in his eyes. "Are you okay?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat. He wanted to move to the loft. That meant that I would only see him at work. He was going to leave.

"Yeah. You said that Alice has Jasper and I'm not so sure. They've been fighting an awful lot lately." It was scary how easy it was becoming to lie to him.

"They'll work it out," he said simply. "You and I fight and we're okay, aren't we?"

He called me out. Intentional or not, it scared the piss out of me. It made me afraid that my façade might be cracking.

"Yeah," I said quietly. And then tried to find a way to deflect him. "But what about Emmett and Rosalie? They love each other, right?"

"I guess."

"Are they going to be okay?"

He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, and then he shut it. He opted to duck his head and massage the nape of his neck. "I don't know, Bella."

Edward rolled over onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. Straight ahead. Not once diverting his eyes or glancing at me. He stayed like that—still as a stone—for a good five minutes without saying another word to me.

Then, he lifted his hand to play with his hair. "We should probably get back. We have work tomorrow and I need to shower before we go to bed." I nodded and got off of his bed.

Edward knelt down beside his bed and picked up the playing cards that he had previously tossed so carelessly. While he did that, I changed into some of the clothes that I had left in his closet—just jeans and a sweater, nothing fancy. Edward came into the closet just as I was zipping up my jeans. He put on a black t-shirt and this pair of tattered jeans that he refused to throw away. He was going to be so cold, even with his coat.

After shoes and jackets were acquired, we went back to his room and Edward grabbed his glasses from the bedside table and slipped them on.

He stashed his keys in his right back pocket and we left his room just as someone started knocking on the door. We opened it, not knowing who to expect. But the person there was certainly the last person I planned on seeing. The Easter Bunny or a Kennedy maybe. But not her.

"I need to talk to Edward. Alone."

I glanced at him for some indication of what to do. He was too much of a gentleman to punch her, but I would do it if he needed me to. Edward swallowed hard and nodded.

"Come in, Rose."

And then he turned to me. "Head on back to the building. Let me talk to her. And I'll be back soon."

I nodded even though I was reluctant to leave them together.

"Yeah, okay." I kissed Edward's lips quickly and he handed me money for a cab. "I have cash. I don't need that."

"Maybe not. But if we had ridden together then you would have let me pay, so there's no difference." I sighed, not wanting another argument to erupt, and definitely not in front of Rosalie.

"Fine," I huffed.

"I love you."

"I love you too," I replied as I slipped out the door.


	24. Chapter 24

A/N: I love you all so much and I promise that I will get the next chapter to you all as soon as it is physically possible for me to do so. But it may be a week. Oh, and my computer is being screwy and won't let me post the picture of the necklace on my profile. I'll try again the next time I update. Tell me what you think of this chapter.

Disclaimer: Twilight is not mine. Neither is Kodak, Zamboni, or the British royal family.

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I'd known her since I was sixteen, just days before my birthday, and our first meeting wasn't exactly a Kodak moment, so maybe I had always been a little prejudiced against her.

Just because it was her fault that my parents found out that I had started smoking pot didn't mean that I had to hate her until I died. I mean, really that was nothing. I was even willing to look past her insistence on calling me Space Monkey for the entire three weeks that she came to stay with us that summer. It was my mom's idea; she thought it would be nice if we all got to meet Emmett's girlfriend that he had been going on and on about since the day they met. I wasn't too keen on the idea, but, again, I was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.

Maybe it was because she reminded me of all the snooty brats that Em usually dated or maybe it was that she really did seem just a little too interested in my dad's net worth, but, whatever it was, my fondness for Rosalie continued to decrease after our first meeting. She would fawn over my dad as he regaled her with stories of growing up in the English countryside and meeting Prince Charles and how our family had been around since the time of King Arthur. Then she would have tea with my mom and all of her friends, discussing Parisian designers and New York fashion week.

And she just seemed so fake all of the time, shaping herself into whatever mold she needed to be so that she could fit into the image of our family. Besides blatant physical attraction and public displays of affection, she never showed signs of being emotionally invested in my brother. I didn't trust her. Not one bit. But, then again, I was high on marijuana for half the summer so paranoia wasn't exactly uncommon. It was entirely possible that I had simply overreacted, over-evaluated her attempts at getting to know my family and turned her motives into something sinister.

It was just the next summer that they died—my mom and dad. And she ended up pregnant, thus sealing her place in my life. I knew that the pregnancy wasn't intentional, and I knew that giving up Ethan was honestly the best decision for them. But at the time, I lashed out. And Rosalie was an easy target. And when she and Em moved to Chicago, I was still that angry little boy who just wanted his mommy and daddy back—I think the therapist said something about being emotionally stagnant or something. I didn't want anything to do with her. I focused all of my anger and rage and pain on one person. Yes, she could be a total bitch. And yes, she cared way too much about the Cullen name and fortune. And yes, she had tried to take my mother's necklace from Bella, but it wasn't exactly like I had ever been nice to her.

I called her 'whore' and 'bitch' and 'gold-digger' and 'psycho' every chance I got. I had on multiple occasions tried to guilt-trip Emmett into taking my side over hers, most of which worked. I instigated fights between her and Em just because I could. When I wasn't yelling at her or criticizing her for something that I didn't even care about but knew it would piss her off, I ignored her existence. And it had only gotten worse since Bella and I started dating.

So I wasn't quite sure what to expect when she showed up at the loft saying that she needed to talk to me. Alone. Without Bella as a net or divider or something. Just her and I. A conversation. I could already tell that pleasant wasn't going to be the word used to describe it.

Bella closed the door as Rose crossed her arms over her chest. She was getting bigger, about half-way through her pregnancy by this point. Stress was bad for the baby, or so I had heard. And they were definitely keeping this one, this boy. That's what Em had told me and I was inclined to believe him.

I closed my eyes and released the breath that was starting to burn in my lungs. "Let's go sit."

She didn't say anything but followed me over to the couch. She sat as far away from me as she could. I guess that meant that it wasn't going to be a bonding experience and she still hated me for making her life hell. The feeling was mutual.

"What's this about?"

She sighed quietly. "Emmett…he…well, he broke off our engagement. And I know that you are probably fucking ecstatic about that news because you've never liked me, but I don't know who else to talk to. My family is back in California and I barely talk to them anyway. All of those bitches that I acted with are suddenly too busy to care. And, well, that little pixie scares the shit out of me. I just…I don't know what to do. My entire life, for almost six years, has been all about Emmett—and, to some lesser degree, you—and now it's just over. I don't know what to do. My entire world has fallen apart."

And, fuck me, I was feeling something akin to sympathy for Rosalie Hale.

"What do you want me to say, Rose?" I replied, trying to not let emotion bleed into my voice.

She groaned. "I don't want shit from you. I just needed to say all of that to someone and now that I have I can go check myself into a hotel or something since your brother kicked me out."

And then she stood up. Half of my brain was screaming, 'Let her leave. Let her walk out of your life forever so that you never have to deal with her shit ever again.' The other half was saying, 'She's carrying your nephew. And your brother loves her despite their most recent fight. And it is probably your fault that they are fighting in the first place. Just one night.'

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"You can stay here for tonight."

She put her hands on her hips, staring me down. "Why? Are you going to murder me in my sleep or something?"

"No, I'm not going to murder you. I plan on your homicide being very bloody and it would be a nightmare trying to find a maid service that could get the stains out of my white carpet," I replied sarcastically.

"Oh, well, I'm sorry that I mistook your kindness for a death threat. It's just that you've never been nice to me. Ever."

"Do you want the bed, hormonal bitch, or not?" I asked, ignoring her derogatory comments about my character. I wasn't sure why I was pushing it even this much. If she didn't want to stay here, it was fine. I didn't care.

"I'm not sleeping in the bed that you and Bella roll around in." I rolled my eyes.

"Fuck no. That's not the one I'm offering. You can stay in the guest room. The pixie and Jasper slept in there, but they were both very frustrated this morning so I can safely say that no fluids were exchanged. Is that good enough for you or do you want me to call you in a room at the W?"

She nodded. "The guest room is fine. Thanks."

I ran my fingers through my hair, briefly wondering whether I needed to worry more about balding or going prematurely gray. "You're welcome."

Rose started walking toward the guest bedroom, but she stopped halfway to the kitchen and turned back to face me. "Why are you doing this, Edward? You detest me."

"I don't honestly know."

She nodded, satisfied by my answer, even though it could barely be construed as an answer. "Thanks all the same." Rose headed toward the room. "I still hate you."

"Hate you too."

I sat on the couch for over ten minutes, letting my head fall back and my eyes close. This was stupid. This was dumb. This was an awful decision and it could only lead to trouble.

I sighed and decided that I needed to call Bella and tell her what was happening. She had been acting weird lately and I could tell that she wasn't being completely honest with me. But what was I supposed to do? If she didn't want to tell me the truth, it wasn't like it was in my power to force her. Did I even want to be in a relationship with someone who could lie to me without batting an eye? If I was talking about anyone else, I would say no. But for Bella…

She answered on the third ring, her voice distant. "Hello."

"Hey," I replied on instinct more than anything. "Um. Rosalie is going to be staying at the loft tonight. And I'm not going to leave her here alone, so I can call you a cab to bring you back here."

There was silence on the other end. And I thought that I might have lost my connection until she sighed. "There's no point in me coming back over there tonight. I'm already in bed."

"Oh. Um. Okay." Yeah, that sounded intelligent. Way to go Edward. And then she sighed again. "Are you mad at me?"

"Nope," she replied in a tone that betrayed her words.

"Why are you mad?" This didn't make any fucking sense. What was her malfunction?

"I just said that I wasn't mad at you," Bella said curtly.

I put my feet flat on the floor and then placed my elbows on my knees. Something was going on with her. And it was annoying the shit out of me.

"Bella," I snapped.

I loved to argue with her when it was playful or about nonsense—books, movies, cough syrup, pizza toppings, ninjas versus pirates, whether penguins were scary or not. But this, this I hated—more than anything or anyone. I felt like we were fighting for our survival as a couple—at least, I was fighting. Bella was acting blasé and driving a fucking Zamboni in an attempt to gloss over whatever issues she had before I could see what was going on. She was blocking me out and feigning ignorance about all her goaltending.

"Is this how it's going to be when you move to the loft?" she asked quietly.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" She thought _I_ was moving to the loft? "I wanted us—you and me—to move to the loft. Together. This place means nothing to me without you here."

"Oh," she said simply.

Oh. Oh. Fucking oh? If Rosalie didn't make me pull out all of my hair first, Bella was sure to make it happen.

"Yeah." I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling a migraine coming on. "I thought that you understood that."

"I didn't," she replied.

"Then why didn't you say something? Damn, Bella."

"I don't know."

I sighed, knowing that we weren't going to get anywhere tonight. "I'll pick you up tomorrow at eight to go to the gallery."

"Okay."

"I love you, Bella. So much."

I swallowed hard. This was getting to be too much. I couldn't keep us alive by myself.

"I love you too. Good night."

"Sweet dreams," I said, but not quick enough to beat the dial tone.

I put my face into my palms and took one deep breath after another, wondering what the hell happened to us. We were fine. We were fucking great not that long ago. And then…this. This shit and fuckery and nonsense and I was losing her. I could feel it. She was slipping through my fingertips and there was nothing that I could do to get her back when she didn't want to stay.

I only wished that I knew why she had let go.

An audible gasp disrupted my melancholy.

"I didn't hear anyone. I thought that you had left or gone into your room or something."

"What did you need, Rose?"

She grimaced as if she was afraid to ask me for something. It would be the first…second time that she had ever asked anything of me. I tried to wipe the scowl or frown or whatever was on my face that could make her upset.

"I'm hungry. Em and I fought all day and I barely ate anything."

It took a bit of fighting against my initial instincts of telling her to shove it but I managed to suppress that. I stood up slowly and went to the kitchen, wondering if I even had anything to feed her. Rosalie could starve for all I cared, but it wasn't the baby's fault that he had Rosalie and Emmett for parents or that they had fought. The baby I cared about; he was my nephew. Rose was simply the stroller or the carrier or the bassinet for him.

I opened the refrigerator and the freezer doors. And then I rummaged through the cabinets. There was very little. I could probably throw something together if she really needed me to. I didn't know what she was craving. As if reading my thoughts, she spoke.

"I can just order a pizza. I have money. And I really want pepperoni right now."

I nodded and pulled at my hair with one hand as I reached for a drawer handle with the other, pulling out a menu flyer thing. "This guy has the best pizza around. Flat crust. Wood oven. It's amazing. You'll love it," I replied.

She took the piece of paper from my hand and smiled slightly. At me. It was weird and kind of foreign. Rose must have recognized that too, because it faded into oblivion a few seconds later.

"Do you want anything?" she asked.

"No," I replied, yawning. I knew that I should shower, that I was beginning to smell ripe, but I just wanted to go to bed and wake up in a world that made sense. "There's some money in the little pot thing by the door for the pizza. Tip well."

I barely heard her whispered 'thanks' as I walked toward my bedroom.


	25. Chapter 25

A/N: It's short, but it's proof that I'm alive. I'll try to update tomorrow.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

* * *

I was an idiot. Of that I had no doubts. I was screwing everything up. All I had to do was talk to him, to let my guard down. He was an understanding person. He loved me. And if I just told him that I was an insecure idiot who was terrified that he would run so much that I was pushing him away, he would hug me, kiss me, and reassure me of his love.

But words would seem empty.

Words are easy to say, easy to distort. It is so simple to play at semantics.

I couldn't fall asleep at all the entire night. His bed had never felt so lonely. His scent lingered—paint and pot—but he wasn't there. I kept reaching over to his side of the bed and trying to find him to no avail. I should have just gone back to his apartment…our apartment. But I was dumb.

He wanted to live with me. I had been thinking all kinds of horrible thoughts about him wanting to break up with me, and, instead, he wanted us to be closer, to move in together. I kept doubting him, doubting his commitment to me. And he had never given me a reason to. It's like I was looking for problems.

He called as he got off the L at the terminal close to the building the next morning. It was simple. Curt, almost. His tone was more like how he had been with me when we had first met—stand-offish and distant. It was nothing like the people we were at Christmas. Those people were happy and together and in love. And now we had been reduced to shadows of our former selves. And it was my fault. He was just reacting to me.

I waited outside for him even though it was below freezing.

I had to spit it all out, to be completely and painfully honest about my shortcomings in both life and our relationship or it was going to destroy us. It may have been too late already. But I had to try.

Jasper had once told me that he and Alice were too messed up to ever work; it was the same day I told him about not feeling like I was good enough for Edward—a fear I dealt with every day. I had wondered what he had meant at the time, but I was beginning to understand. Edward thought that he was messed up and I thought that I was messed up. And if we never got past our marred perceptions of ourselves, then we would never see a reason that the other person could love us. I didn't understand how he could love me, how _I_ could ever be enough to hold him. Maybe he felt the same way.

I recognized his copper hair as he approached me, bundled up in a gray peacoat and a flannel-like scarf. His glasses fell to the tip of his nose and he pushed the black frames into their correct position. As he made eye contact, he pushed his hands even deeper into his coat pockets.

"What are you doing outside? It's cold. You'll catch pneumonia or something," he scolded. It reminded me of our first date at his gallery. He said that he cared too much. God, I was so stupid. How could I doubt him?

"I love you," I replied, feeling the truth behind the words burning at me.

His eyes changed, softened a bit, and I knew that he could feel it too.

"Bella, you once told me that we can't have a good relationship if I don't let you in. The same goes for you. Talk to me, babe."


	26. Chapter 26

A/N: This school year is kicking my ass already. I'll do my best to update regularly. I love being back. And I wanted to reply to every review, but, gosh, I'm lazy and busy and I figured a chapter was more important. Yes, it is another short one. You probably won't get a normal lengthed chapter until Labor Day weekend when I'll be free to write. Oh, I love you guys. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

* * *

The cab ride to the gallery was quiet but not nearly as tense as the last few days had been. He held my hand easily in his as the bright sun shone through the cab windows. Except for the gripping cold and thin layer of snow that littered the sidewalks and streets, it could almost be mistaken for a warm day. The sun's rays were intense, bright, and they carried a glimmer of hope. Maybe we would really be okay.

Maybe I had doubted that. I had doubted everything.

Never in my entire life had I felt good enough for my mom. It seemed that no matter what I did, she would always view me as inferior. So I studied and worked and I supported myself without any help from her. And I got into college and went to grad school. And it still felt like it wasn't good enough. Not for her. And I projected that onto him.

I knew that I was snob sometimes. I looked at all of those people who had others to depend on and saw them as weak, beneath me. I had been independent since infancy. I didn't need anyone. I thought that I didn't need anyone. But now I knew differently. I needed Alice because only she was able to take care of Edward when he was at his lowest point. I needed Em because he understood his brother and even me in ways that I didn't. Jasper was his best friend. Alec kept him stable. And Jane helped me numerous times.

But mostly, above everything else, I needed him. He had to be a part of my life or life didn't matter.

The cab pulled up next to the building and he paid the driver, as was the custom. I had long given up arguing with him about this. It didn't go anywhere and just made us both unhappy. He unlocked the door to the gallery and held it open for me. My step hesitated, because I knew that once I entered we would have to talk. And as much as I wanted to just ignore it and move forward, I knew that we needed this.

I could have gone to the lounge or the office or even upstairs to his studio, but I sat down on the floor in front of one of my favorite paintings. It reminded me of a shooting star against a night sky but it was green and blue and yellow. He sat down against the nearby wall, his legs stretched out it in front of him.

I looked down at the light floors and tried to find the words. They were more difficult to find than I had imagined they would be. It's like they were hiding in the corners or my brain like a dust bunny behind a couch.

"I'm sorry," I finally managed. "It's going to take a while for me to get this all out, so can you just let me? And then you can comment or yell or whatever, but I have a lot to say."

He reached out and took my hand, intertwining our fingers. It felt like home.

"Yeah. I can do that."

I didn't doubt this.

I stared at our joined hands as I tried to prepare my next train of thought.

"I'm scared that you're going to leave. Or I'm going to leave. I love you. And I'm trying to trust you, which is idiotic because you've never given me a reason not to trust you. I just, you've ran before. And I don't know if I'm reason enough to keep you here.

"I know you love me. But I've been so afraid to say any of this because of your reaction. But I love you. And, you know if you still want me to, I want to be with you."

I looked down at the floor again while pulling a piece of lent off of my cream-colored sweater. I had said my piece. The rest was up to him.

"Are you…Is that it?" he asked quietly. I nodded. It was the basics. "I wish you didn't doubt me, but, I must admit, that sometimes I doubt myself and my ability to stay here. I don't want to leave. And I will do everything in my power to talk to you when I have a problem if you'll promise me that you'll do the same."

"Okay," I replied.

He groaned. "Don't just say okay to appease me. I'm being completely serious about this."

"So am I," I interjected, but he just kept talking. His eyes were staring blankly at the painting behind me.

"You are the one relationship, the one person that I have that I believe in. I know that we can last. I believe that above all else—more than art or family or life or pain; I love you. But you have to work with me." I nodded, trying to ignore the way his voice broke when he said those three words. "The second you have doubts or fears or worries, talk to me. Don't worry about my reaction. Be a little selfish with me, like I'm selfish with you."

He finished off his speech quietly, his voice becoming a low grumble but I understood every word.

"I love you." My voice hung in silence. And he squeezed my hand once, still not looking at me. "Are we done fighting? Will you kiss me now?"

His lips twitched into a small smile. "Come here," Edward said.

I crawled the short distance between us and climbed onto his lap. His lips met mine in a short kiss.

"We're done fighting," he said as he pulled away. "But we're not done talking."

He didn't go upstairs to paint at all that day. And I didn't go into the office and write. Hell, I don't even think that he unlocked the doors for the public. We sat on the floor of the gallery and talked the entire day, only stopping to order Indian for lunch. After about an hour of dissecting my life and my issues and my fear of being abandoned by everyone and everything, I wanted to quit. But Edward took over. He started to describe why he ran in the first place and he spoke about his therapist and what she had done for him.

He told me how he had wanted to cut last night because he knew that our relationship was spinning out of control and he didn't feel strong enough to contain it. I trusted him when Edward told me that he didn't, that he knew it would hurt me so he stayed up until three AM reading _Mind of the Maker_ until he passed out. The bags under his eyes confirmed the story. So did falling asleep with his head in my lap a little after we ate lunch.

I ran my fingers through his soft copper hair and smiled because I knew, in that moment, that we were okay. Maybe not great or back to where we had been, but we were okay. And that felt like nirvana.


	27. Chapter 27

A/N: I always promised myself that I would never be one of those authors who didn't update for weeks, months. And I'm sorry. It's been forever. And I've missed you all. I'm not going to describe the hell that my life has been, I'm simply going to ask for your continued love and support. And I will finish this story. I'll even try to update more than once a month.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.

* * *

"You're books were so damn heavy," he complained again. I sighed, lathering my favorite body wash against my grimy skin.

"You knew how many books I had before you asked me to move into the loft with you. You knew what you were getting yourself into." I stepped around Edward so that I was under the spray of the shower. "Plus, you had quite a few books of your own. It wasn't like I was the only one."

He laughed quietly, so I turned to look at him. Edward paused from soaping up to meet my gaze. "We should turn the guest room into a library. Or an office. Somewhere that you can write without me getting in your way."

"What about you? Don't you need somewhere to paint without me interrupting?"

He rolled his eyes at me. Clearly I was missing something. "I have my studio."

"I write at your studio too," I reminded him.

He reached out, soap still on his hands, and put his arms around my waist. "That's not even close to the same thing. You write in between working at the gallery. I want you to feel comfortable here…with me. I want you to have space of your own."

I felt creases form in my forehead as I tried to process that tidbit of information. He wanted me to be comfortable at the loft. I already was. "Will it make you happy?" I asked.

He shook his head slowly. "It's not about making me happy. I want to do this for you."

I nodded.

"Okay. That sounds great."

"Good," he said, smiling.

I stepped back in the stream of water and washed the remaining suds from my body.

We had awoken at six in the morning to move our stuff from the building to the loft. Edward had borrowed a faded green VW bus from one of his painter friends and we loaded it up with crap. It took three trips. And the books were the last thing that we had carried into our home. So, of course, that's all that he could remember.

It felt good to call the loft home.

We didn't jump into moving together after the fight, argument, whatever it was. Neither of us wanted to gloss over our issues. Neither of us really wanted to talk about them either, but we forced ourselves to.

It had been three weeks since that fight, three weeks of complete honesty. It wasn't easy. When I finally worked up the nerve to tell him about Alice's vision of me leaving, I got so nauseous that I was worried about puking my mint chocolate chip ice cream all over his Chucks. He was a little pissed that I hadn't told him sooner, but he didn't yell or scream or break up with me.

He hugged me. And he told me that he wouldn't run if I wouldn't.

Edward finished rinsing himself off, and then he turned off the water. He opened the door to the shower and grabbed two towels, handing one to me. After first drying off his hair, he slung the towel around his waist, wandering into our bedroom. I spent a bit more time in the bathroom, removing as many water droplets as possible and rubbing lotion on my skin.

I knew that I should blow-dry my hair before going to bed, but I was too exhausted. I simply combed it out and towel-dried it. It would be impossible in the morning, which meant that it would probably be up in a ponytail for my shopping expedition.

Edward was already asleep when I entered our bedroom. It didn't surprise me one bit. I knew I'd be out once I hit the bed too. I cranked up the heat and crawled under the covers without putting on pajamas, cuddling into his side.

The glaring brightness of the morning sun woke me up before the alarm clock did. I had forgotten to pull the curtains last night. It was my first night staying at the loft since our fight. Besides our honesty kick, Edward and I were also trying this thing where we weren't with each other twenty-four seven. That meant that we had to develop separate interests, make new friends, act like normal people. It was a challenge. But Alice and Jane had been around to take me shopping and watch cheesy romantic-comedies and get drunk with.

Jane was still adjusting to her brother's new life. She said she was happy for him, but she just seemed confused. She liked the life that she lived and always assumed that Alec enjoyed it too. But he wanted something else. He wanted to trade in excitement in for normalcy.

Edward turned over and groaned.

He was awake.

"I had a bad dream," he said half-into his pillow, his voice gravely with sleep.

"What was it about?" I asked as I brushed his hair from his face.

"I dreamt that I was an adult."

I laughed once. "What does that mean?"

He sighed. "What do you mean what does that mean?"

I shivered and pulled the blankets closer to me, inadvertently exposing Edward's back to the chill of the room. He frowned and yanked them back, which left me completely without covering. Laughing quietly to himself, Edward put his arm around my waist and dragged me across the bed toward him. He lifted the blanket and slid me so that I was pressed against his beautiful, semi-nude body.

Once I was warm again, I spoke. "How was your dream different from your life now? Do you not consider yourself an adult?"

"No," he said. "Adults are boring."

I put my hand on his cheek and he opened his eyes. "Edward, you do realize that you're twenty-two? In the eyes of the American government and society, you are an adult."

"Idiots," he muttered. "Can you believe that they issued me a loan? Or that they trust me to pay taxes? Own the loft? It's like, oh, after your eighteenth birthday you are suddenly mature and capable of making smart decisions that you weren't able to make the day before. No. That's dumb. I don't even know what it means to be an adult. But if I have to be one of those miserable people who constantly walk around with a frown on his face to be one, then I'd prefer to stay a child."

"Isn't it too late?" I asked. "You're an adult."

He sat up and stared at me in horror. "No, it is not too late. I don't want to be old and boring."

I sat up too, placing my head on his shoulder. "One, you're not old. Two, you could never be boring. I remember the first time we met being completely intrigued by your chaos and liveliness and mystery. And I still am. And I think I always will be. Just because you're a grown up now, doesn't mean that you have to be miserable or boring or unhappy."

I watched his Adam's apple bob just inches from my face as he gulped. "I've been unhappy my entire adult life until I met you."

"Stop. Don't be sappy."

Edward groaned. "I'm not being sappy. It's true. Being with you makes me happy."

"Being with you makes me happy too."

We sat in our bed for several minutes without another word.

"You still going shopping with Alice today?" he finally asked.

"Yeah. At noon. For a psychic, it's taking her a damn long time to find the perfect wedding dress."

I wasn't positive that Jasper had proposed, but I knew that Alice had started dragging me wedding dress shopping for the last two weeks. That had to mean, if there wasn't an engagement already, that one was imminent. Or maybe Alice just liked trying on pretty, white dresses. Who knows? I loved the girl to death, but I still didn't understand all of her weirdness.

"Her visions don't always work like that," Edward reminded me.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But then how does she know that Jasper wants to marry her?"

"I don't know. Maybe she didn't see it in a vision. Maybe she just knows that Jasper loves her."

"Still weird."

He shrugged. "How would you know that I wanted to marry you?"

"You want to marry me?" I asked skeptically. Mentally I began listing off all of the reasons why Edward and I should never get married. Most of them involved me.

"I don't know. Maybe. Eventually. But that wasn't the point. How would you know--if someday that day arrived--if I wanted to marry you?"

I scoffed, not wanting to play this game. "I don't know. Let's just say that some hypothetical day years down the road after we both knew and understood what we were getting into, then maybe…no, I don't know. I really don't."

"Okay," he said, sighing. "But maybe Alice does know. Maybe Alice knows Jasper and his behavior and emotions better than you know mine that give her some insight into his wanting to be married."

"He does want to marry her," I said. "He has for as long as I've known him."

"You're ridiculous. How can you even question Alice when you already know that Jasper wants to marry her? That makes zero sense."

"You're right," I relented.

Maybe I was just projecting my feelings onto Alice. I loved Edward. And we were getting better, but to say that I never had fleeting moments of doubt about him, about us, would be lying. Alice and Jasper always seemed so damn sure about one another. I wanted to be able to look at Edward and know that we would be together in our seventies. But I just wasn't to that point yet. Maybe time would change that, maybe intimacy would change that. Maybe just living, breathing, being would give me some clue to the grand scheme of life.

I mean, Rosalie and Emmett hadn't spoken in nearly a month and they had been together forever. They were having a kid. And they were planning the wedding. I mean, god, I despised Rosalie but I couldn't imagine losing the one person that I loved the most, the father of my child, because of selfish mistakes.

What if that happened to me?

What if Edward and I were together for years and then I made a stupid decision and he ended it? How would I survive? How would I go on? Who would I turn to?

Who did Rosalie turn to?

Was she doing this all alone?

Damn it.


	28. Chapter 28

A/N: New chapter. I keep promising that I'll do better. I swear I will. As long as I still have your support, I'll keep writing this story.

Disclaimer: Twilight is not mine.

* * *

I was surrounded by white lace and silk and taffeta. I was drowning in a sea of wedding dresses. And I had been bobbing up and down for the last six hours. Despite her psychic abilities, Alice was unable to find the perfect wedding dress. She knew what it looked like; she just didn't know where she was going to buy it.

So I, as the dutiful best friend, followed her around the eight stores that we had been to today.

I was just thankful that she hadn't brought up bridesmaid's dresses yet. Frills and hemlines were not on my list of favorite things. But I would endure them for her wedding if she wanted them.

We had been shopping all afternoon and I was avoiding too much chit-chat with Alice. I wanted to ask her about Rosalie, if she knew what was going on but I didn't. I was scared of the answer. I was scared that I could end up like her—alone and without the man that I loved. Rosalie had had Emmett so wrapped around her finger and she managed to lose him.

Alice giggled at something at some comment that she had made. I hadn't heard what she was saying. Once again I was too wrapped up in my own bullshit to be there for someone else.

"Bella," she said, staring straight at me.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention."

"I know. It's okay. What's on your mind?"

"Rosalie," I replied after a few moments of hesitation. Then I helped Alice lace up the back of another dress.

"I can't see how it's going to turn out, Bella. I've tried, but it's hazy."

"What does that mean?" I asked. "Should I not try to find her? Would it be a mistake?"

Alice spun in her dress to face me, a smile on her lips, despite the serious tone in her voice. "I don't know. This one's up to you. Whatever you think is best. But, honestly, why do you want to find her? Rosalie's a self-absorbed bitch."

I sighed. "So am I. And I don't know how I'd survive."

"Fine, fine. Be selfless. Make a new friend. Whatever." She smiled wider. "How do I look?"

"Beautiful. Jasper will bawl like a little baby when he sees you in this dress and knows that he gets to keep you forever. I mean, that's the plan, right?"

Alice reached out and squeezed my hand. "That's the plan, yeah. He finally asked me to marry him a few nights ago. But I knew that he had been planning it for a while. I saw the ring. I couldn't see him actually saying the words, but I saw him slip the ring on my finger." And then she squealed. "So, you really like the dress?"

I nodded. "I love it. Do you like it?"

"I think so," she replied, spinning around to look at herself from every angle in the kaleidoscope of mirrors that enveloped the tiny room.

"That's not very reassuring, Alice." She smiled at me like she used to when I had first moved into the building so many months ago and was completely ignorant about her. I guess that I still was.

"Trust me," she said, "if I think that it's right, it's probably right. Have a little faith."

I started to undo the corset back of her ivory dress. "Have you talked to your parents yet?" Since Alice's runaway she hadn't had any contact with her mom and dad. And I think that she preferred it this way. Until now. Now she wanted to marry Jasper, and, for it to be legal, she needed her birth certificate as proof of identification. For the last few years, Alice hadn't had a license or any form of ID. She didn't even know her social security number.

This meant talking to her parents—something that she had been avoiding.

"No," she replied softly. Obviously still a touchy topic. "Jasper wants to visit them when I go to meet his parents next month. But I…I don't want to see them. I don't want to talk to them. I don't. I don't think I'm ready to face them yet."

"Not even with Jasper by your side?" My fingers gently pulled the lace ribbon, not wanting to accidently tear it.

Her voice perked up a little. "I have to admit that he does make every experience better. But I don't know that even he can redeem a meet and greet with the people who locked me in a basement for most of my childhood. And what if they say or do something? You know how protective Jasper is. And you know that he was trained to kill. Mr. Brandon and Corporal Whitlock in the same room? Not a good idea."

"They're your parents."

"How long has it been since you saw your mom?" she asked, knowing full well that I hadn't seen that woman since the courts told me that I was free of her. She had hugged me, had held me tightly, and cried. It was a show. I knew it was a show.

"Awhile."

"Any plans on seeing her anytime soon?" she asked, tauntingly.

"No."

"Then don't pester me about seeing mine. I'll call them, have them fax my birth certificate. But I'm not going to go and see them. They're not invited to the wedding. They'll never meet their grandchildren. And they are going to have to live with that. Because even if some day I manage to forgive them for the hell that they put me through, I'm not going to forget. That's burned into me. Searing. All the time. I'm still only lucid about seventy-five percent of the time. I hate them."

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"It's not your fault."

When Alice was lucid, as she called it, it was easy to forget her past. How anyone had managed to survive and have any control of their mind was beyond me. But Alice was a fighter. She had to be.

"Alice, I'm starving," I whined.

She giggled lightly at me. "Edward is making you dinner. It'll be ready when you get back."

I gasped. That boy could cook like nobody's business. His mama taught him well. "What is he making?"

She tsked. "Not telling. It's a surprise. But you'll love it." Alice smiled. "That boy could burn macaroni-and-cheese and you would still think it was gourmet because you are so ridiculous over him."

"So not true. If he burnt mac-and-cheese I would be obligated to dump him. I have culinary standards which must be upheld."

Alice laughed at me and stepped out of the dress. She slipped her sand-colored sweater back over her head and pulled on dark denim jeans. I went to work trying to put the dress back on the hanger. Alice informed the worker that this was the dress she wanted and handed her a credit card that I had seen before, or at least one similar. It looked like one that Edward had in his wallet.

I didn't ask.

We took the L back home—my stop was three before Alice's. When she realized that my stop was approaching, she placed the credit card in my hand. It read "EDWARD A CULLEN." I glanced back at her and she just smiled.

"He said that it's his wedding present to me—buying my dress. Thank him for me. There's no way I could have afforded it on my own." I nodded.

"I will."

The February chill hit me as I left the station and walked the few blocks back to the loft. I buttoned up my coat and dug my mitten-ed hands into my shallow pockets, praying that the damn groundhog would see his shadow tomorrow. Or wouldn't. Whichever one meant that spring weather was coming soon because I was sick of the snow and ice and coldness. I had thought that Seattle was bad until I came to Chicago. I hated Chicago winters.

I wasn't built for this kind of weather. Those fifteen years in Phoenix had spoiled me for warm weather. I loved the feel of the sun on my skin or wearing short-sleeve shirts in the dead of winter. That's what I was made for. Not this cold that felt like it was stealing my soul.

When I entered the apartment, Edward was nowhere to be seen, but there was an intoxicating scent wafting from the kitchen. It made my mouth water and my stomach growl. I walked right past the kitchen, knowing that if I stopped to get a better look that I would end up tasting something. Instead I unbuttoned my coat and slid it from my shoulders, prepared to take it into the bedroom.

But then I noticed that he had finally hung my second Christmas present on the wall—the once previous bare wall where we had first had sex. Best birthday ever. The first time he had shown me the painting, it made me blush. It wasn't scandalous, nothing that anyone else would immediately understand but I did. The painting was of the living room. From the angle he chose, you could see two cell phones on the floor, a pair of stilettos, a gray vest, and some loose buttons rolling around. Vaguely, in background, if you concentrated, you could see a girl standing against the wall with a guy approaching her.

And he had finally hung it on our wall.

"You survived."

I turned to look at him coming out of our bedroom and smiled. "Are you talking about dress shopping or being thoroughly fucked against this wall?"

His breath-taking smirk appeared as a hand automatically went to his bronze locks. "Well, I thought I was talking about the first one, but now I'm thinking about the fucking one, so…"

I reached into my back pocket and pulled out his credit card. He took it from me, his eyes watching me as if he was worried I would freak out or something. Ridiculous man.

"Alice says thanks. She found a dress that she really likes."

"Good. Did you have a good time with her?"

I shrugged. "It was okay."

"Are you hungry? I figured you would be hungry because Alice is such a slave driver and wouldn't stop until she got what she wanted."

"She saw that you were making dinner, so she didn't feel the need to get me a snack." I felt like I was a little kid talking about a grownup. "I'm starving. What did you make?"

"Just spaghetti. Nothing fancy."

He walked to the kitchen and I trailed behind him after dropping my coat on the chair. I stared at his perfect ass. And, as if sensing my ogling, he turned around, wrapping his arms around me. His lips found mine.

"I missed you today," he said.

"I missed you too."

He kept an arm around my waist as guided me the rest of the way into the kitchen. Edward pulled some toasted bread from the oven. I went to the cabinets and found a serving tray. While he checked on the noodles—which made his glasses fog up—I scooped the bread onto the plate and put it on the table. When I came back, he was scooping the pasta into bowls.

Dinner was delicious, just as Alice predicted.

"Do we have plans for tonight?" Edward asked.

I snorted. As if we had that many social engagements. "Not that I know of. We need to plan something for your brother's birthday next week, but we don't have to do that tonight," I said. "Why? Did you have something in mind that you wanted to do?"

"Besides re-creating your birthday?"

I giggled, feeling a blush form on my cheeks for some stupid reason. "Are you going to offer me dessert and then almost have a panic attack when you tell me that you love me?"

"Shut up. I was nervous." I laughed at the frown that had formed on his face. "Are you going to ask me to fuck you on the wall again? You begged. I remember. I bet I could make you beg again."

By the tightening in my stomach, I knew that he was probably right about getting me to beg for him. Almost as if he was a mind-reader, Edward leaned closer to me from across the table. His voice came out like a growl—animalistic and aggressive. "Beg, Bella. You know that I'll give you anything you want."

"You. I want you."


	29. Chapter 29

A/N: I hate that I have to keep apologizing. New chapter. It's a bit of a transitional chapter. Hope you like it. Hope anyone is still reading.

Disclaimer: Not mine and stuff.

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EPOV

When Em and I were younger we spent the better part of a year begging my dad for a tree house. I can't even remember where we had first gotten the idea—probably old Simpsons episodes or something—but somehow Emmett and I knew that our lives would never be complete until we had a cool clubhouse in the tree. My mom was against it. She was sure that we would hack off limbs if we tried to make it. Or, if we actually managed to build the thing, that we would fall out and break our necks.

After much pleading and promising, Dad finally agreed to build one with us. We worked on it for a few hours every day that summer. And by the beginning of August it was done. It wasn't anything fancy, but we preferred it that way.

Like almost every other toy or game or distraction that we got, Emmett and I grew bored of it after only a few months.

The day of my parent's funeral, when everyone was inside talking about what a tragedy it was and how much they missed them, I climbed up into the tree. I suppose it was the first stepping stone to me running away. I camped out in the tree house for three days reading The Uncanny X-Men, only coming down to go to the bathroom or make myself more peanut butter and syrup sandwiches. It became my solace, my sanctuary.

Em finally got sick of it and threatened to throw me the fifteen feet to the ground.

So I got down. And then Em sold their house and I never got a chance to go back.

"Would you ever let your kids have a tree house?"

"I don't know," Bella replied, snuggling closer into my side. "I'm not even sure I want kids. But, if I did, and we had a tree, I think that I would probably let my kids have a tree house. Why?"

"I was thinking about the tree house that my dad built with me and Em when we were younger. And I don't know. I think I would like to do something like that if I had a son. Or a daughter," I said.

"I think you would be a good dad." Bella's eyes lazily met mine. She was still groggy from waking up.

"Like you, I'm not sure I want kids. I'd love to spoil Emmett's kid though. I could be the cool uncle who teaches the kid to gamble and buy him—or her—alcohol."

Bella bit her bottom lip. She looked like she had something that she wanted to ask. I watched her weigh her options—say it or not.

Her curiosity got the better of her. "Speaking of Emmett's kid…how's Rosalie?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I'm worried about her. I know that I hate her. But…I don't know."

I hadn't told Bella about Rosalie—she had asked to keep it a secret, and I had respected her wishes. I had, however, gone against her wishes and told Emmett where she was. He had just been too much a pussy to do anything about it.

"She's fine."

"How do you know?" she asked, sitting up in bed, not bothering to cover her body from me.

"I've…communicated with her."

Bella's fingers combed through the tangled mess atop her head. "That's vague."

"I know. I'm sorry." Bella nodded understandingly.

"I just want to talk to her, make sure she's doing okay. It has to be rough on her to be doing this all alone."

"It is. I try to help, but you know how stubborn she is."

"Please, Edward. I have only pure intentions. And if she throws me out, I'll leave her alone forever."

I sighed, feeling myself relent. I probably shouldn't have. "She's at the W."

****

BPOV

I knocked on the door of the room that Edward told me Rosalie was staying in, the room she had been in for a month now. She didn't answer immediately. And the same thought that had been bothering me since I left for the hotel: What the hell was I doing?

She could refuse to answer. Or she could slam the door in my face. Or she could bitch and yell and then slam the door in my face. Maybe she would talk to me. But I couldn't think of a reason why she would, or why she should.

Rose slowly opened the door slowly. She looked as gorgeous as the first day I had seen her. The growing baby bump only made her even more radiant. It was a huge hit to the ego knowing that she was nearly six months pregnant and would turn more heads walking down the street than I would. Her forehead wrinkled slightly as she stared down at me.

"What are you doing here, Bella?" It was the same tone that she usually reserved for speaking to Alice, like the listener wasn't intelligent enough to understand big words. Alice usually just left the room. I didn't have that option.

"I came to see you."

She rolled her eyes. "Whoop-dee-frickin-doo. You've seen me. Now leave me alone."

Rose moved to shut the door, but my hand gripped it and kept it open. "Rose, how are you doing?"

"Peachy keen. The man that I was with for four years won't speak to me. Our child is going to pop out in a few months. I have no idea what I'm going to do. I have no money. I graduated from a major university, and I can barely find work that doesn't involve cooking grease or plastic shopping bags. And now I have you standing at my door. What do you want really? You want to see how far I've fallen? You want to gloat?"

"No, Rose," I said, trying to redeem myself. "I want to help, any way you'll let me."

"What can you do?"

"I don't know," I replied honestly. "But it has to be better than doing this all alone."

She sighed and held the door open for me. Rose still looked pissed, but at least she was letting me in.

***

APOV

I sat on the kitchen table, my legs folded underneath me, and I waited for him to come down the stairs. It would be another two minutes. He was running late today, couldn't find his gray and black checkered Tom Ford tie. It was underneath his bed. Honestly, he was a mess since Rosalie left, not that I would tell him that. Jasper had tried talking to him, but to no avail. And Edward was barely any help these days. Alec kept him distracted with imported Crested Ten, but he hardly drank anything anymore.

He looked hungover all the time because he barely slept. I saw him leaving his bed at four AM numerous times, determined to find her and make things right. He never made it past the front door.

His footsteps echoed on the stairs as he came into the kitchen.

"Shit, Alice," he exclaimed, his step faltering. He froze in place and clutched his chest for a few seconds. I hadn't meant to scare him. I always seemed to scare everyone. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"Happy birthday, Emmett."

He groaned and moved toward the coffee pot. His eyes were bloodshot and the bags underneath could carry the Statue of Liberty across the ocean. He hummed as his lips found the mug of fresh, black coffee.

"Not much to celebrate."

"There is plenty to celebrate, birthday boy. Like that you and Rosalie are going to stop fighting."

He glared at me. "That's not going to happen."

"Why not?"

What was he going to tell me, honestly? Some lame excuse about pride and money and love? I knew better. He was hurting. He wanted her back. He was just afraid that it was either going to be just like before or that she would have already moved on. How ridiculous. She's six months pregnant with his child. And she's Rosalie. I may have despised her, but she was loyal to Emmett. No one could deny that.

"I just…we aren't. This was for the best…for both of us."

"You should probably practice that speech a little more. She's coming to the party tonight."

In hindsight, I probably should have waited until after he swallowed, because he started choking on his coffee.

"What?"

"Yeah."

Emmett sighed and put his mug into the sink. "I'm going to kill Edward." And then he stalked toward the door.

I hopped down from my spot on the table and trailed along behind him. "It wasn't your brother."

"Then who was it? Rose wouldn't just show up on her own." He winced a little when he said her name.

"It was your favorite person. Bella. And don't be mad at her. She's only trying to help. We all want you to be happy. And reconciling, at least eliminating the animosity, with Rosalie will help." Bella had spent a few days with Rose and had bribed her into coming tonight. I had seen it getting better. And Rose wanted it better.

"Whatever," he replied as he grabbed his coat from the rack and his briefcase from beside the door. "I'm too old for this shit."

He started walking down the block, and then I could feel myself falling. I was barely aware when my knees hit the floor. It took over everything, the way my visions always did. I was here, standing in the same spot by the door, and I could hear them whisper-yelling in the kitchen. Everyone else was sitting around the couches drinking and eating birthday cake. But they were arguing. And Rose was crying. And Emmett looked like he was falling apart all over again.

"I'm sorry," she mouthed and started to walk toward the door.

"Alice." His voice brought me back.

Jasper was squatting down next to me, holding my face between his hands. His hands, they were cold. The building had decent heating. Jasper's hands were always cold, and they felt soothing against my clammy skin.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," I replied breathlessly. My heart was racing and I was out of breath like I had been running. I was usually affected by my visions—sweaty, increase in pulse, tiredness—but it was never this bad. I was worried. My vision had shifted.

They were supposed to reconcile, but now it looked like it was just going to get worse.


	30. Chapter 30

A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger, but at least I didn't leave you all hanging too terribly long. Glad to hear that some people are still reading. I'm going to try to get back to a regular schedule.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

* * *

BPOV

I knocked on the door to her suite, and watched as she practically Incredible Hulk-ed it off its hinges. She was having a panic attack, and stress was bad for the baby, at least that's what Edward had told me a million times since I informed him about the plan to bring Rosalie to Emmett's birthday dinner.

"What took you so damn long?" she questioned, grabbing my hand and yanking me into the room. She continued to pull me past the parlor sitting area place and into her room.

She had two dresses hanging up. I pointed to the red one. Emmett once told me that he couldn't resist her in red.

"I was getting ready."

"Who cares about you getting ready? I need to get ready. I look like I ate a basketball for breakfast. I have heartburn like nobody's business, and I look like hell. I haven't seen him in a month. What if he thinks I look fat and ugly?"

"One, you are neither fat nor ugly. Two, your boobs are getting bigger. Use them to your advantage. And three, this is not the first time Emmett has seen you pregnant."

She looked at the ground as she spoke. Rose usually always made eye contact; it was a show of power. "Yeah, but the last time I was this pregnant, he was in love with me."

"He still loves you."

"Yeah, sure he does." Rose took the dress off the hanger and unzipped it slowly. She slipped it on and then turned around. I zipped it for her. "I can't believe Edward is letting you spend time with me."

I rolled my eyes. "He's my boyfriend, not my boss. It's not like we're having a secret lesbian affair. I'm trying to be a friend."

"Exactly," she replied, turning to face me. Rosalie looked like a goddess, like always. "I've been a bitch to you since the day we met. I know it; you know it. Hell, I tried to take Esme's necklace. And I haven't really been any nicer since you came to see me last week. I honestly don't understand why you're sticking around."

"If I was pregnant and lost Edward, I'd want someone to be there for me, even if it was you," I said. Not exactly sugar-coating it, but she deserved the truth.

Rose laughed. "Okay. But we're not friends."

"Hell no," I replied. "I still kind of hate you, bitch."

"Back at you." She sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. "Everyone fucking loves you, and it annoys the shit out of me. When you moved in, you were all Em ever talked about. And Edward, he's always hated me. But he turned into a little boy, teasing and pulling your hair to show how much he liked you. And Mystic, that evil, little pixie. I don't get it. What makes you so special?"

For a minute, she stared at me intently. It was like she was studying me—my body, my personality, my actions—and trying to figure out some elaborate puzzle. Apparently, the sum of the parts didn't equal up to the whole.

"I don't know. I don't get it either," I mumbled. "Come on, we have to finish getting you ready. We have to be over at the building soon."

I curled Rose's hair, and she applied her makeup. We lotion-ed her up and spritzed perfume. And then we took a cab to the building. Edward should have already been there—he had to go pick up Em's cake from the bakery before it closed. And Alice and Jasper were already home. I was sure that Alec and Jane would be there too. The whole gang back together again…just like the end of Grease. Only instead of a pregnancy scare, there was an actual pregnancy. And no one was wearing leather—at least that I was aware of—or breaking out into song and dance.

She stiffened in her seat when we approached the building. It was like rigor mortis or something. I had to physically remove her from the vehicle.

So far, this day was not going well.

And it just got worse when we stepped inside the building.

It was chaos. There was clanging and clattering in the kitchen. Jane was yelling at Alec on the stairs, before she stormed off. Edward turned from his spot at the kitchen table to look at me with wide, green eyes. He shook his head slowly, as a warning or something. Jasper raced down the stairs and stopped halfway down the first flight. He pointed at me and signaled that I should follow him.

I glanced at Rosalie, but she flashed me a 'you better not, bitch' look. So, I yanked on her arm and pulled her up the stairs with me. Better to not leave her alone downstairs with Em, Edward, and Alec just yet.

"What's going on?" I asked Jasper when we reached the top of the stairs.

"It's Alice," he whispered quietly to me. "She's not well."

"What do you mean?"

He looked down at the ugly carpet. "She had a vision this morning. And she said that she was fine, but she wasn't. She was shaking. And she had a fever. And she kept fading in an out. I've kept it from everyone else—Edward was asking questions. But she wants to see you. She probably won't make much sense; she hasn't been very lucid at all. I'm sure it will be in riddles again."

I squeezed Jasper's hand once. And I let go of Rosalie's arm. She was a big girl and could manage without me for a few minutes.

I walked into Jasper's room and shut the door behind me. And she was there in his bed, looking as fragile and as scary as the day I met her. Her eyes were glassy as they met mine.

"From childhood's hour I have not been as others were; I have not seen as others saw; I could not bring my passions from a common spring." I recognized it. "Alone" by Poe. It was the same poem from my welcome dinner.

"I'm sorry, Alice. I don't understand. I didn't then, and I don't now."

"I'm not the same. I've never been the same. I'm different. Bad. No. Not bad, just not the same. But not good either. I see, and I see and see. And sometimes I see bad. I see not good. Mistakes, like little cracks in the foundation of a house. And they fill with air and water and sand. And it breaks—slowly at first. But it breaks. I break it. I broke it."

I sat down on the bed. "Alice, what are you saying? What's going on?"

She looked at me again, but I saw a piece of the other Alice staring back. "I made a mistake. Big, big mistake."

"Me?" I asked, pointing at myself. "Am I the mistake?"

She shook her head quickly and stared down at the bedspread. "No. I am. I saw. It was bad. Fighting. Rosalie. Emmett. Jane. Alec. Jasper sad. Edward lost. You. I don't see you. I don't where you went. But you're here."

My stomach tightened. I hadn't seen her this messed up in a long time. "Everything will be fine."

"I don't know," she whispered. A few tears splashed against her cheeks.

"I do. Everything will be fine. I promise." I tried to keep my tone calm. No good would come from telling her that I was shitting myself right now. "You stay here and rest."

When my hand touched the doorknob, she whispered, "From the thunder and the storm, and the cloud that took the form (when the rest of Heaven was blue) of a demon in my view."

I couldn't look at Jasper when I left the room, but I could feel his eyes on my face, studying me. Instead, I latched onto Rose's arm. We went down the stairs, but he didn't follow us. I didn't figure he would. He would stay with Alice.

Rosalie squeezed my arm so tightly when we saw Emmett that I was afraid that it would cut off the blood flow. Em didn't look at either of us. And I think it hurt me just as much as it hurt Rose. He had never been angry or upset with me. He always smiled and called me ridiculous nicknames. While I was recovering from the emotional slap in the face, Edward came up next to me.

"This is a mess."

"I know," I whispered.

Rosalie frowned at me. "Maybe I should just go."

I was about to agree with her, but Edward spoke up. "No. You're here. Go talk to him." She nodded, not arguing—completely against her usual temperament.

I watched her walk into the kitchen and straight up to Emmett. He was leaning against one of the refrigerators, gulping down Heineken. He seemed to look right past her. I turned away from the scene to look at Edward.

"I fucked everything up."

"No," he said, brushing my hair back. "You just forced my coward of a brother to actually deal with the situation instead of ignore that there is a problem."

"It wasn't my place. I should have just left it alone." God, I was so good at messing up everything. Emmett hated me. Rose would hate me after this. Alice was relapsing, and Jasper was worried about her. This was supposed to be a celebration. It felt like a nightmare.

"I don't know what else to say, Emmett. I miss you. I love you. And I know I messed up. I'll do anything just get you to talk to me," Rose said quietly, but the acoustics in the building didn't exactly promote privacy.

There was no reply from Em.

"I got a job. It's not a lot, but I'm making money. And I'm going to pay back Edward for my hotel room just as soon as I can, and then I'll leave you guys. You won't ever have to hear from me again."

"It wasn't Edward." I barely understood his voice it was so low and torn up, like a double bass through a food processor.

"What?" Rose asked.

"Edward wasn't paying for your room; I was."

I looked at Edward. He nodded slowly, his mouth a sad, straight line. What? How? I had thought that Em was pissed at her. He kicked her out. He refused to talk to her.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because I still love you. But I can't keep doing this, Rose."

I shut my eyes and leaned into Edward's arms. He pulled me close. I could hear someone sniffling, but I didn't know who it was. For all I knew, it was me.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to him, and then I heard her footsteps. She put a hand on my shoulder. "You tried. Thanks for that, but I'm not going to cause any more trouble. I'll leave you alone, and I expect you to do the same. It's what I want."

"Okay," I said, my voice muffled against Edward.

"Bye, Edward."

"Bye, Rose."

I was in bed that night, unable to sleep. My eyes kept finding patterns in the shadows. And I kept wondering how different everything would be if I hadn't tried to fix everything with Em and Rose, if I had stayed away from Edward, if I had found another place to live. I was near hysterical, while Edward was sleeping blissfully unaware.

My phone lit up, and I reached out to grab it before it started to ring. I answered it, slowly slipping out of bed and going into the bathroom. The floor was cold on my bare feet. I should have worn socks to bed.

"Hello," I whispered.

"Bella, you answered. I was just going to leave a message. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't wake me, Rose," I replied. "What's going on?"

She sniffled into the phone. "I know I said goodbye earlier, but I thought that I needed to say thanks. I know that we hate each other. But you were really decent to me these last few days. And I'm probably never going to see you again. So I just wanted to say that before my flight leaves."

"Flight?"

"Yeah. I'm going home to California. I talked to my parents, and I'm going to stay with them. My mom will help me take care of the baby. And Daddy is excited to see me. I haven't been home in years."

"Rose, don't do this. Stay. I'll help you take care of the baby. Edward too. And Em will come around," I pleaded.

"He won't. And that's okay. I've made some mistakes. This is them finally catching up with me."

I grabbed my toothbrush from the holder and went into the walk-in closet. I found one of my old backpacks and started stuffing it with clothes. "Are you flying out of O'Hare?"

"Midway," she answered warily. "Why?"

As I pulled on shoes I replied. "What time does your flight leave?"

"About an hour. 5:45."

"I'll be there."

"What?" she asked, but I hung up.

I pulled on my coat, and walked out of the closet, back through the bathroom, and into our bedroom. I kissed him on the cheek, not wanting to wake him. I'd call him later, after I talked Rosalie out of leaving, or from California if I couldn't.

"I love you," I whispered into the darkness as I left.


	31. Chapter 31

A/N: Bit of a transition chapter, but still important. Thank you all for your lovely comments. I love your feedback and opinions even if they are verbally berating the characters for their stupidity. I know that some of you wanted a lemon, and I'll write one soon. I promise. It just hasn't fit with the last few chapters. Also, the middle part of this chapter was partly inspired by the song "The Gambler" by Fun. Amazing band, if you haven't heard of them yet.

Also, I don't know if anyone is getting the alert that I updated this. I'm not. So, I'm trying this again.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

* * *

Ring.

"What the fuck? It's like five. Call me back in three hours."

"Jasper, wait," I cried out, my fingers curled into my hair. I was pacing the length of the loft, from the front door to the windows near the couch. "Have you heard from Bella?"

He was quiet for a few seconds. "No. Why?" His voice was more alert than it had been.

I let out a breath. "I woke up and she wasn't next to me. She's not answering her cell phone. There's no note. I didn't know if she had called you or Alice or something." I could feel my heart freaking out in my chest. Was this Alice's vision come true? Did Bella really leave me?

"She hasn't called me. And Alice can barely say her name right now. We haven't heard from her. I'm sorry. What do you need me to do?"

I stopped walking and leaned against the wall that held my painting for Bella. With my forefinger and thumb, I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to relieve the tension that I felt. I didn't want to believe that she was gone; I wanted there to be a rational explanation for this, but I couldn't think of a reason.

In the dimly lit loft, without her by my side, nothing felt right.

"I don't know. I'm going to keep calling her. If I don't hear anything soon…" I couldn't finish the thought. "I don't know, J. I'm sorry I woke you up. Bye."

"You'll find her. Don't worry, man. She loves you. She has a good reason for all of this. I'm sure of it."

"Yeah. Okay."

I hung up as my legs started to slide out from under me, and I collapsed onto the floor. This was so wrong. She couldn't have left me. She promised. We both fucking promised that we wouldn't leave. I pulled my knees to my chest, wishing that I wasn't such a wimp, wishing that I was strong enough to keep looking for her when all I really wanted to do was throw in the towel.

I wasn't enough to keep her.

She said she loved me. But that wasn't enough. Things were good with us. They had been, so why on earth would she leave in the middle of the night? She had left while I was asleep, so I wasn't even sure how long ago she had left.

But she did leave. She was in bed next to me, and then she was just gone. I loved her. I couldn't lose her.

I dialed Bella's number again.

***

BPOV

I stuck my key into the lock, but the door was open before I could even twist. His eyes were wild—feral, almost—and he looked at me like I was his prey. I didn't say a word as he pulled me tightly against his body, my arms dangling at my side. His lips attacked my neck, my face—any and every inch of bare skin.

It scared me.

"Edward, baby, are you okay?" I asked.

"I thought you were gone," he replied, his lips never leaving flesh.

I took a few steps into the apartment, closing the door behind us and dropping my backpack. And I let his words hit me. He thought that I was gone. He thought I left. I was so stupid; I hadn't even considered Alice's vision when I ran out of the apartment this morning. Why hadn't I left a note? Or woke him up? Or something?

"I'm here." I didn't know what else to say.

Edward lifted me up and threw me over his shoulder. "Why didn't you answer your phone?"

"I turned it off when I got to the airport," I replied, still a little confused and worried.

"Airport?" he asked, but there wasn't panic or hysteria like I thought there would be. He just sounded curious.

"Rosalie. She flew back to California. I tried to stop her, but she wouldn't be dissuaded. And she told me to stop trying. But, Edward, she's gone. Your nephew. Emmett's son."

He placed me gently on our bed, and my hair splayed out everywhere. His eyes were different than they had been before. If they were predatory before, these eyes showed surrender.

"I love you."

"I love you too," I said. I bit my bottom lip; I couldn't help it. He was making my stomach tighten in nervousness.

"Don't ever do that shit to me again. I can't take it." I shook my head.

"I won't. I promise. I'm so sorry. I wasn't…I didn't think about what would happen if you woke up, what you would think."

Edward crawled on top of me, supporting most of his weight on his arms. "I don't fucking care. You're here. That's all that matters." His lips kissed mine. The day's worth of stubble scratched against my face, irritating it slightly.

Edward rolled over to his back, and he pulled me with him, so that I was resting on his chest. I kissed the tattooed lines on his heart. And then I looked into his eyes. Even in poor lighting, I could see the fire in his expressive eyes.

"I'm here. I'm not leaving. After watching Rose get on that plane, I know I couldn't do that; I can't run away. I know that now. And I'm here for as long as you want me to be."

"I can't think of a reason why I would ever want you to be anywhere but right here in my arms."

"If you keep saying sappy stuff like that, I'm going to feel obligated to give you head." Edward laughed, bouncing me slightly.

"Do you remember our first date?" he asked, brushing a strand of my chaotic hair behind my ear.

"How could I forget? You threw me over your shoulder, like you just did. And you said I can grope you whenever I feel like it. I was so nervous, because I liked you so much and was afraid that I was going to ruin it. But you were amazing to me. You always have been."

"I remember you walking downtown all alone, completely oblivious to the danger that could have befallen you. Then you got all huffy that I cared. And then you kissed me. I was trying so hard to get you to like me; I wasn't even sure you wanted to be there with me."

"You carried me when I fell asleep," I said, smiling at the memory.

His fingertips brushed my cheekbone. "You were so adorable, kept saying my name in your sleep. And groping me, but that was less adorable, more…troublesome since I was trying to be a gentleman."

"I cannot help it that even asleep I want to have sex with you. You're too damn fuckable for your own good."

He smirked at me. "I think we should go out on a date. I haven't taken you out in a long time. Let's go do something fancy, pretend to be adults, and all that jazz."

I started fanning myself with my hand. "My, my, Edward Cullen asking me out on a date. I do so hope that he has nothing but pure intentions in mind. I've heard stories about what he does to women."

"My intentions are far from pure."

I shrugged. "Good. So when are you taking me out, love?"

"Saturday?" he asked, wrinkling his forehead like he was trying to figure out if we had plans. I couldn't think of anything either.

"Sounds good."

***

EPOV

"She's gone. Are you okay with that?" I said, sitting across from him at the table. He had been drinking, and he was hovering between still wasted and hungover. His eyes stared blankly at the table. "Emmett," I exclaimed.

"Shut up," he said, covering his ears.

I slammed my hand down on the table in frustration. "Damn it." I pulled out my wallet from my back pocket and rummaged through it. I found what I was looking for and slid it across the table to him in hopes that he would understand.

It was Ethan. Curly brown hair. Big blue eyes. Emmett's smile. My nephew. His son.

Emmett looked up at me; he was grimacing. "What, Edward? What do you want me to say? You tell me that she's gone back to California to live with her parents? What am I supposed to do?"

"Is this how you want to know both of your sons? Through letters and pictures sent a few times a year?" I asked. "If you want any chance at knowing your second child, then you need to talk to Rosalie. I'm not saying marry her or get back together, but she was offering reconciliation and you were an immature ass about it. She made a mistake; she's fucking sorry. And now it's your turn to apologize."


	32. Chapter 32

A/N: I hope that you all like the lemony bits in this chapter. As tempted as I was to make it solely a smutty chapter, there are a few plot points. A mini-playlist for this chapter: "Fire" by Augustana, "I And Love And You" by The Avett Brothers, & "Better Man" by Spencer Bell. Tell me what you think.

Disclaimer: Twilight is not my property.

* * *

We entered the lobby, and I was still reveling in the high of those two glasses of wine and dancing in his arms all night. His arm was wrapped around my waist, partly because we couldn't keep our hands off each other and partly because I was a little tipsy and would fall without his assistance. I giggled, and he turned his head to look at me, smiling the smile that made me weak in the knees.

"Good evening, Mr. Cullen. Ms. Swan. Did you have a nice time?" Peter at the front desk asked us. Edward and I had stopped to talk to the doorman of the apartment building before we left. We usually talked to him. Peter was an older man, and he was the sweetest thing ever. And he always seemed genuinely happy to see us together.

"It was fantastic," I said, still giggling.

"It was," Edward agreed, tightening his grip around my waist.

"Wonderful," Peter said. "Good to hear. Have a lovely rest of the evening, you two."

"Oh, we will," Edward said as we stepped into the elevator. He pressed seventeen and then turned his attention back to me. He stepped closer, kissing me softly.

We had gone out on a proper date, the first one in a while. And it was completely different from just living together and eating dinner every night, having the same conversations over and over again. It was exciting. It made me remember why I loved him so much.

He put on black dress pants, a white button-up shirt, and a matching black tie. And he wore his checkered Vans because he hates dress shoes. Edward wanted to put in his contacts, but I stuck out my bottom lip and begged him to wear his glasses. I didn't want to leave the loft; he looked like he had emerged out of one of my fantasies. Edward, however, was really excited about this date so I went along with it.

I played the part of the good girlfriend, put on this yellow dress that Alice insisted I buy a few weeks ago. And I pulled my hair up into a bun. We were supposed to look like adults, so I did my best to fake it.

We went out to eat—I had lamb; he had steak—and then we went dancing. It wasn't the first time Edward had taken me dancing, but it was the first time that I had properly enjoyed it. I fault the wine. Edward was such a good dancer, which he blamed on his mother sending him to lessons and cotillion crap. And once again I wished that I had been able to meet his mother, because I wanted to thank her. She had raised an amazing son. He was so smooth that he was able to make up for the fact that my dancing skills and ability to process rhythm were a bit lacking.

We danced for a few hours, until my legs began to feel heavy.

We stepped out of the elevator and down the hall to our apartment. His fingers were intertwined with mine as he unlocked the door with his right hand. He walked in with me trailing slowly along behind him. Edward flicked his wrist, and I spun into his arms, giggling again. He kissed my forehead, just holding me close.

"I love you," he said, almost as if was mystified by the words. He sighed and continued to stare at me, his green eyes incandescent. "God, I am so in love with you." He ducked his head down for a second and laughed to himself.

"I love you too," I said, trying to express half as much feeling as he had did using the same few words.

We looked at each other for a few seconds, but I had to turn away first. The love so evident in his eyes was hard for me to look at. It was the sun, and I was afraid I would go blind from staring too long.

Edward's arms loosened around me. They slid down my shoulders and across my forearms, stopping to take my hands in his. "Let's go to bed." I nodded blankly as he walked backwards, never taking his eyes off of me.

When we entered our bedroom, he released my hands, moving them up to carefully pull the locks of my hair free from the bun. Edward ran his fingers through the wavy strands. Then his lips met mine again.

I regained use of my motor skills long enough for my hand to come up and loosen his tie. He pulled away, and I bit my bottom lip. After making sure that he was watching, I let his black silk tie slip through my fingers and hit the floor.

His eyes didn't leave mine as he lowered himself to his knees in front of me. One hand extended to grab my ankle, and he removed the high heel from that foot. He then lowered it back to the floor before taking the other and doing the same. His hands tickled up my calf muscles, past my knees, and traced along the hem of my dress.

Slowly, I squatted down next to him, inadvertently pushing his hands further up my legs. In an effort to keep myself from swaying and falling, I leaned closer to Edward, unbuttoning his shirt. He had to remove his hands from me for my legs to be able to remove the shirt, but he reluctantly did.

As soon as his shirt was off, I rotated my body so that my back was facing him. I lifted my recently freed hair, and he got the hint. With every inch that he unzipped, I stood up a little more. When I was standing erect, the yellow, strapless dress dropped to the floor.

I was standing before him in just my panties—I was young and thought I should celebrate the few remaining braless years I had left while I had the chance; it looked like Edward was enjoying them too. He licked his lips, slowly standing up too. He kicked off his Vans and socks, and then he put his hands on my waist and pulled me with him. We backed up until he reached the bed.

He sat down. And I straddled him.

My fingers tangled into his hair as my lips found his. And we kissed, sending my mind into a lust-induced state that could best be described as a fog. He was the only thing I could think of. Him. And me. And this room, this bed. For me, that's all that mattered.

His lips dipped down, kissing along my jaw line. And then he left a trail of heated flesh as he kissed down my throat. My fingers tightened in his already messy hair, and I threw my head back, offering myself to him. He kissed down my chest, removing one hand from my hip and kneading my breast. His lips found the other nipple and flicked it with his tongue. I hissed at the sensation. And then he began to suck.

My chest was heaving with every labored breath. My eyes fluttered as I struggled to keep them open. And I began to roll my hips against his growing erection. He thrust into me, whether consciously or not, and I moaned. He moved his attention to the other nipple as I continued to rub myself against him, craving the delectable friction. I knew that my panties were ruined, soaked, and had to be dripping onto his pants at this point, but I didn't care. I gasped out as he gently bit down on the nipple, and my chest arched into him.

"Oh god, Edward," I said between panted breaths.

He put his hands on either side of my face and kissed me. "Lie on the bed." His voice was low, but commanding. I nodded, removing myself from his hips and crawling up to the head of the bed. I did as he asked, and I watched as he placed himself between my legs.

Edward leaned forward—I could feel him brushing against my thigh—and kissed my lips. My neck. My chest. My ribs. My belly button. The front of my panties. I watched him, and he smiled at me. He pulled them down and dropped them to the floor. I bit my bottom lip and close my eyes, feeling a spark as his fingers traced along my slit.

My hands fisted the comforter as he thrust his fingers into me. My body started thrashing about as he flicked my clit with his thumb. I was trembling. On fire. Electric. I was so close. Every breath was a struggle. And every inch of my body was aching, ready for a release.

"Let go," he whispered, curling his fingers and flicking my clit at the same time. And then I felt like I was falling. Pleasure shot through every square inch of my body as my orgasm hit.

I gasped out, my chest heaving. "Edward."

For several seconds all I could hear was my own breathing, and my heart pounding in my ears. I opened my previously squeezed-shut eyes. He was licking me off his fingers, smiling greedily.

I reached out a hand, signaling for him to come closer. He crawled up my body, until I could hold his head in my hands. I leaned up to kiss him, my tongue flicking out to taste myself on his lips. Edward was smiling; I could feel it. His tongue came out to battle my own. I let him win. Then he pulled his head back.

I let my hands trail down his chest, gently scraping him with my nails. It took only a second for me to undo the button of his pants and another to unzip them. He helped me pull them and his boxers down. I bent my knees, putting my feet flat on the bed as he positioned himself.

And then he entered me. His thrusts were deep and slow, filling me fully. In and then out. Deliberate. Purposeful. Patient. It was torturous ecstasy. I wrapped my legs around his waist and smiled at his moan. He pulled my bottom lip in between his. Kiss. Thrust. In. Out. In. Kiss. Out. It went on for what felt like years.

And then I could feel it starting in the pit of my stomach and stretching down through my toes. I kissed him harder, his slow, deliberate thrusts becoming more chaotic. His right hand slid between our bodies. He found my clit and timed his rhythm with our thrusts. And then I could feel it at the tips of my fingers. I knew I was close, but I didn't realize how close. Out of nowhere, pleasure rushed through me, my head thrown back, my vision becoming fuzzy.

"Fuck, Edward," I said, at least I think I said it.

He continued to thrust, a little faster than before. And then he clenched his teeth together. Edward thrust three more times before he released into me, his muscles all clenching. Then he collapsed, resting on my chest for a few seconds before rolling to my side. His breathing still uncontrolled, Edward placed little kisses all over my face.

"I always feel the need to invent words after we have sex. Spectacular and amazing and orgasmic don't even begin to cover it."

I smiled. "I feel the same way," I replied.

"So, good date?" he asked, causing me to giggle.

"I'd say at least top three best dates ever."

He kissed the sensitive skin of my shoulder, tickling me. "I better be all three."

"Of course, dear."

Edward smiled his crooked smile. "Exactly what I wanted to hear," he said. "Let's get under the blankets. If I fall asleep naked on top of the covers, I'm going to freeze to death."

I wiggled on the bed, as he and I pulled the covers back. Once we were under, he pulled me close, still not sick of kissing me. I fell asleep to his lips lightly worshipping me.

My phone vibrated half a second before it rang, waking me up from glorious sleep.

"Don't answer it," Edward mumbled as I reached to the bedside table to grab my phone.

"It's my dad," I replied, pressing the answer button. "Hello?"

"Bells? Are you still asleep?" he asked.

"It's fine. What's up?" I asked, brushing off his question. I sat up in bed, brushing my hair with one hand even though I knew he couldn't see me.

"I was wondering if I could talk to Edward," he said.

"You have his number. Why call mine?"

"He didn't answer."

I looked at Edward. "He didn't answer?" He shrugged. "Yeah, he's right here." I handed the phone to him, thinking who this was more awkward for. My dad obviously knew that my boyfriend was right next to me. I knew that my dad knew Edward and I were sleeping together. But Edward knew that Charlie knew that he was sleeping with his daughter. It was a huge mess of awkwardness.

"Hey, Charlie," Edward said sounding much more awake than he just had. And then he laughed. "Yeah, I understand how that is." There were a few seconds of pause as he looked at me, still smiling. "No, she's not that bad. Thank goodness."

I pouted out my lips as he winked.

And then he got all serious. "Yeah, I can do that. Do you have a request or suggestion or preference or anything? Or do I have free rein?" Edward nodded, listening intently to whatever my dad was telling him. "And when do you want it by?" He smiled. "Okay, when does Sue want it by?"

I was intrigued.

"I can do that," Edward said. "Yeah. I'll talk to you later, Charlie. Bye."

And then he handed me back my phone and rolled over.

"No, no, Mr. Cullen. I want to know what that was about."

"Your dad and step-mom want me to paint something for them. It'll be my first request, so I hope I don't screw it up."

That afternoon we went by the building. I was worried about Alice, who was still struggling with lucidity. And Edward was concerned about Emmett, who was still struggling with jackass-ery.

But when we got there, things were better than we thought they were. Alice greeted me at the door, wrapping her arms around me in a hug. She smiled brightly and started launching into wedding talk—bridesmaid dresses, bouquets, the pros and cons of a spring wedding. We sat on one of the couches downstairs, while Edward went up to find Emmett.

Jasper came down the stairs, took one look at Alice going a mile a minute, and turned back around. It was really difficult for me to not laugh, thus alerting her to what her fiancé had done. I bit my bottom lip and tried to look interested in napkins or seating or whatever we were currently discussing in graphic detail.

About forty-five minutes after we arrived, Edward and Emmett descended the stairs. Em's eyes were red and puffy; he'd quite obviously been crying. While Edward made him a glass of ice water, Em leaned against the kitchen table, staring off into space. He gulped it down loudly, quietly thanking Edward.

On the L, on the way back to the loft, Edward told me that his brother had finally called Rosalie. They had both apologized. And they seemed to be in a better place than before. But Rose wasn't coming back to Chicago, and Em was worried that he lost his son for good. Despite Edward's best attempts to soothe him, he was still freaking out. Emmett still thought Rosalie would keep the baby from him.


	33. Chapter 33

A/N: Okay, clarifying a few things, Alice hasn't called her parents yet (she will in this chapter), Rosalie never cheated on Em--she's just a controlling bitch, and Alice does make mistakes/see things incorrectly in her visions. If there were any other questions that I forgot to answer, let me know. I'll do my best to get you a response. And now for the next chapter. Let me know what you think.

Disclaimer: Don't own Twilight or The Killers.

* * *

EPOV

I helped him pack up the last box, because he had been having trouble doing it alone. Apparently, it took him hours to pack a single box; he kept reminiscing about every single thing that he packed up. And then, after we finally managed to prepare all of Rosalie's and the baby's stuff that had been left at the apartment for shipping, I had to help my brother pack a suitcase. He had never been one to worry about what he was supposed to wear. Work meant suit. Somewhere with Rosalie meant whatever she picked out. Somewhere with any chance of seeing Rosalie meant one of her pre-approved outfits. Somewhere with me meant those ratty black basketball shorts that he loved and a Dartmouth shirt.

This was different though.

Emmett was supposed to be mailing Rosalie all of her stuff—and he was—but he was also flying to California to talk to her in person. They had been together for forever, so I don't know what his problem was, but he was freaking out. He made me pick out clothes for him—as if I had better taste or knew what the woman who I had spent considerable amounts of time hating liked. But I helped without complaint.

He was torn up about this. He loved Rosalie, whether or not I liked that fact. And he loved his son. He only had about two months—however many weeks—to figure this thing out with Rose, which meant that this little trip was important.

He zipped the black suitcase luggage stuff that he had gotten from a great aunt for high school graduation.

"Come on," I said, patting him on the back. "Alice said that she needs our emotional support."

"Okay, I have a few hours before I need to leave for the airport." He kind of smiled.

Alice was calling her parents after many, many delays. And she needed us all to be there. I don't think that was one of her visions; she was just really nervous, so we all agreed. Bella and Jasper were already sitting on the couches downstairs when we got there. They were huddled close, almost as if they were ready to protect her from any threat. But they had to realize—Jasper especially—that Alice was her own biggest threat.

Emmett plopped down on one of the worn-in couches, stealing my seat beside Bella. She looked and smiled softly, before glancing right back at Alice. Their relationship had been a little strained since the whole Rosalie thing. But they were trying. Em was pissed at himself for his reaction; Bella was pissed at herself for getting in the middle of it. And I just wanted them to stop being so careful around one another.

Especially now.

I wanted to tell him. It was driving me Mad Hatter-like crazy. I was afraid that if I didn't tell someone soon I was going to start spouting off nonsensical riddles and rhymes. Alice was the only one who knew what I had done, and I hadn't even been able to properly tell her. She had seen it.

"Come on, Alice, no more delays. We're all here," Jasper said firmly. He usually let her have her way with everything, trusting her. But Jasper also knew when to push her.

"I can't do it," she replied, squeezing Bella's hand so tightly that even from feet away I could see it changing color.

"Fine," he said, I think, as a threat. "I'll do it. I have a few things I'd like to say to them anyway." He dialed the number and put the phone on the coffee table. We could all hear the ringing through the speakerphone.

"Hello," a female voice answered.

"Hello? My name is Jasper Whitlock. I was wondering if I could speak to Jeremiah or Mary Brandon." His voice was surprisingly calm and civil.

"They're not here right now," the voice replied. "Do you want to leave a message for them?"

"Cynth?" Alice said quietly.

"Excuse me?"

"Cynthia? It's you, isn't it?"

"Who is this?" The girl's voice sounded frightened.

"It's Alice."

We could all hear the girl's panicky breathing. "They told me that Alice was dead. You can't be Alice. She died. Almost four years ago."

"Motherfuckers," Jasper muttered.

"Jasper, not around Cynth," Alice scolded quietly. "It's me. I'm not dead. I'm very much not dead. That's actually why I was calling. I need my birth certificate."

The girl, Cynthia, who Alice had once mentioned as being her little sister, sighed into the phone. "I don't know where Mama put it. I'd have to ask her. And she'd tell Daddy; you know she would." She gulped. "It would be a big mess, and I'd get in even bigger trouble. You have to call back and talk to them yourself."

"Cynth," Alice said, her voice pleading.

"No, Alice. If you're even Alice." She paused, and I felt myself holding my breath. "If you're my sister, then you know what they're like. I can't. I have fifteen months until I'm eighteen, until I'm done with these people forever. And I'd prefer to spend them in my room rather than the basement."

"Cynthia?" Alice said, but she was interrupted.

"Oh my gosh, they're here. Call back."

"No, wait."

But the line went silent.

***

EmPov

The boxes of baby stuff had been sent via FedEx or UPS or someone, so that was one thing I didn't have to worry about during the flight. I tried to focus on the music buzzing in my ear, but Sam's Town just wasn't doing it for me. Rosalie used to sing "When You Were Young" every time she heard it on the radio. There were certain lines that she'd always look at me when she sang. And as it played through my iPod, she was all I could think about. She was all I had been able to think about since New Year's Day. And that was months ago now.

I know how Edward felt about her—at least how he had felt about her; now I wasn't so sure—but I loved her. I had since freshman orientation when she plopped down in the seat next to me in that huge lecture hall. She was blonde, tan, red lips, and bright eyes. She was better than any wet dream I'd ever had, and she had chosen to sit next to me. I felt like the luckiest guy in existence. We made snide comments throughout orientation, and by the end of the first day she had written her number on my hand without any prompting from me.

We clicked.

And by that first summer, my mom had invited her to come stay with us for a few weeks, mostly because I was freaking out about being away from her—she had plans to go back to California, which meant back to beaches, her parents, and her douchey ex-boyfriend. I would have cut off my left big toe to get her to stay with me.

She didn't know anything about my parent's money until we showed up at the house and she cussed me out for letting her show up in ripped jeans and a tank top. She was so nervous. Rosie tried her hardest to fit into their world and kept asking about our family history. Apparently, I had also forgotten to tell her that my dad was English. What is the deal with chicks and guys with English accents? She would sit with him for hours, listening to boring stories just to hear him talk. And she tried her best to get along with Mom and all her friends, studying up on fashion on my laptop in the morning so that by tea she would have something to contribute to the conversation.

Edward hated her. She'd taken to calling him Space Monkey because of his fondness for pot. And then my parents found out, and it was just a huge debacle. He never forgave her.

Edward was in Europe when we found out that she was pregnant. I'd never been more terrified of anything in my entire life as I was the day she told me. We talked to my parents, and they agreed that an adoption would be best for us. Neither of us was in the position to take care of a child; we were still in college. Mom and Dad had even helped us find a family.

Then they died. I didn't know what to do. No one prepares you for that kind of thing, for losing both your parents at twenty, for having a pregnant girlfriend, for having a brother who was near-catatonic for a few days and then takes off. No one tells you what to do when the people you love need you the most, but you're having trouble just forcing yourself to get out of bed every morning. Edward yelled at me, saying that I didn't really care about them because I didn't cry. But I had to do everything that week. I prepared their funeral. I spoke to the lawyers and doctors and every family member when he bailed out early to hide in the tree house. I didn't have time to cry; I was too busy, and I knew that if I slowed down for just one minute that I would break down.

Rosie was by my side when, after the funeral, after everyone was gone, after my parent's stuff was split between me and Edward like when we used to divvy up the Halloween candy, I finally broke down. She was there when the cops told me that they couldn't do anything about Edward because he was over eighteen. And I was there when she gave birth to Ethan, and we handed him off to his new parents, even though she was having second thoughts.

I loved her with every part of me, because she was every part of me.

And somehow along the way we had both fucked up. But we could fix it. I was sure we could fix it. Maybe not overnight. But I was willing to try. And it sounded like she might be willing to try from our phone conversations over the past month. We could at least be friendly. The kid deserved at least that much from us.

Edward didn't know why I was really going to California; I was looking for an apartment. The firm I worked for had already agreed to transfer me to their San Diego branch. I could be close to Rose and our son. She had once sacrificed and moved with me to Chicago to chase after my brother. Edward wasn't the same hurt little boy that he once was. He could take care of himself. It was time for me to do what was best for me, for my future, and that was being in the same state as my son. I had no right to ask Rose to move back, and she hadn't asked me to either. But this was something I needed to do.

Rosalie had agreed to pick me up at the airport—something that I hadn't expected, but was pleased to get. When I saw her, I instantly smiled. It was instinct or habit or pheromones or something. She was radiant, just as beautiful as always. And, out of habit, I leaned in to kiss her, correcting myself at the last minute to kiss her on the cheek. She smiled at me nervously. We were so unbelievably awkward around each other now. It was fucking ridiculous, but I couldn't help it. I didn't want to fuck anything up worse than it already was.

"How was your flight?" she asked.

"It was fine. Listened to The Killers." Rosalie perked up. They had been her favorite band, like five bands ago. I put my hands on her belly. "How's he?"

"The doctors say that he's perfectly healthy."

"Good, good." There was a brief awkward silence, after which we started talking at the same time, then paused, waiting for the other to go. "No, go ahead."

"I know you only have a few days to look for an apartment, so I started looking for you. I know it's none of my business or whatever, but I found a few near my parent's house that you might like to look at. And the prices aren't bad, should work for your budget. So I have those. I mean, if you want to look. If you don't, that's fine too. I understand." She stopped, letting her overflow of words seep into my brain.

"That sounds great. Thank you."

She looked down at my hands still on her stomach, but I could see the corners of her mouth were turned up. "You're welcome."

"Have you eaten dinner yet?" I asked. She shook her head, the blonde waves caressing her face in the exact way that I wanted to. I'd never been jealous of hair before. "Do you want to get something?"

"Sure," she agreed. "The little guy is getting antsy. I think he's hungry too."

On the drive to Rosalie's favorite Mexican restaurant, I found myself trading off my staring time between her face and her stomach. I wasn't sure which I was entranced by more—her violet-blue eyes or the fact that we only had a few more months before we were parents. She must have noticed.

"Have you thought about names?" she asked.

I laughed. "All the time. But I'm not any closer to deciding on anything. What about you? Anything you're fond of?"

She nodded. "I was thinking about naming him after my grandpa." Rosalie's grandpa, Elliot, had died of lung cancer last year. They were close, and she took it pretty hard.

"Elliot Hale," I said, testing out the name. She shook her head.

"Elliot Carlisle Cullen," Rosie replied. "If you like it, that is. I'm not married to it or anything. It was just an idea."

"I like it." I smiled. "I really like it."


	34. Chapter 34

A/N: Only another chapter or two until this thing gets wrapped up completely, depending on the length of the next chapter.

I want to thank everyone who has read and is still reading this story.

Disclaimer: SM owns Twilight. I am not SM.

* * *

Alice and I sat cross-legged on the kitchen table playing speed. And, even though I was trying my hardest to concentrate on the game, I could hear Jasper and Edward conspiring in the living room. Jasper wanted to call Alice's parents straight back and "give them a talking to," his words. But I think what he meant was that he was going to take all his army training and fly down to Mississippi and kill her parents.

Alice pretended to be oblivious, her hands moving at lightning speed to put her cards down before me.

Edward sighed, and he walked over next to me, kissing my forehead. "You better watch her, Alice. She'll cheat if you aren't careful."

"She's not going to cheat. I'd know if she was even considering it." She frowned to herself. "Bella's too busy worrying."

"There's no way you could know that," I replied, putting down a four and a five, before drawing two new cards. "You aren't a mind reader."

Alice put down her final two cards—a three and a jack. "I know. I can tell."

I dropped the rest of my cards onto the table and turned toward my boyfriend. His mouth was a taut line. But his eyes met mine and tried to offer some sort of hope that this would be okay.

"Jasper is going to call your parents," Edward informed her. She shook her head.

"He's not."

Jasper stomped across the room, cell phone in hand. "I am. It's like you don't even care, Alice. Did you hear what your sister said? They could be doing the same thing to her that they did to you."

"You're not calling them," she replied firmly.

Jasper walked to the edge of the table and knelt slightly, putting his face level with Alice's. "There had better be a damn good reason why I'm not calling them. God, Alice."

"There is," she replied. "They're calling you."

And then the phone rang. Jasper straightened up to full height as if that could somehow make him intimidating to whoever he was talking to on the phone. He pressed the answer button, putting it on speaker phone, so that both he and Alice could talk.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Hello, who is this?" a woman asked. It had to be her mom.

"Why?" Jasper replied rudely.

"This number called my house when I was gone." Her voice sounded a bit like Alice's, only more worn-out, like she had been busy for weeks and this was her first chance to catch a breath. "So, tell me, who are you, young man? And what did you say to upset my daughter?"

"Which daughter?" Jasper replied, his voice low and smooth. Like a panther ready to pounce. Or a cobra or something.

"The only one I have," the woman replied, her voice matching Jasper's.

I saw his jaw clench, and he somehow grew at least three inches taller. Alice lithely took the phone from his hand.

"Mom?" she asked. And I heard a gasp from the other line.

Edward removed finger after finger from his arm. I hadn't realized that I had grabbed on to him. Or that I was drawing blood.

"Mary Alice?" Her voice cracked. "Baby, is that you?"

"I go by Alice now," she whispered.

There was sniffling. "Oh, baby, when they told us that you were gone…when you ran away…I thought that you were dead, that I'd never see you again."

"I'm still not sure you ever will," Alice replied.

"That's fair." More sniffling. "I deserve that for what I did, for what I allowed your father to do."

"You are not hurting Cynthia," Alice interrupted. "That's not a question. That's a request. Just like my next statement."

"Anything."

I let out a breath. Alice's mom seemed willing to help. That was a good sign. And Alice hadn't had a breakdown. And Jasper hadn't threatened physical violence on anyone.

"I want my birth certificate and social security card. You can mail them. I'll give you the address."

"Of course," she replied. "Why now, though? Why after all these years? Were you just waiting for your eighteenth birthday?"

Alice paused for several seconds. "I'm getting married."

Up until that point, Alice's mom had stayed relatively in control. But sobs broke out.

"He loves me. He knows all about my little quirks, and he loves me all the same, Mom."

"That's wonderful," she replied between fragile breaths. "I'm happy for you."

"You gonna tell Daddy about talking to me?"

Her voice shook. "You and I both know that wouldn't be wise."

Alice nodded, though her mom couldn't see her. Edward wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me off the table. He nodded at Jasper—more man-language—and then we went up to the third floor, to the rooms where we had met.

This place had so many good memories for me. It's where I had found a real home.

"I think Emmett is moving to California," Edward said as he stared into the empty room that had been his for several years.

"Why do you think that?" I said, only barely realizing what this could mean for him and Edward and for all of us.

Edward shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I don't have any proof or evidence. Maybe it's just what I would do if I was in his shoes. But I think he's leaving."

"What does that mean?"

He shrugged again. "I don't know."

***

EmPov

Rosalie went apartment hunting with me, even though we were still technically just friends, and even though she was very pregnant. The first four places we looked just didn't feel right to me—the kitchen was too small or too big or the extra room didn't have a window or any number of things. I was probably just being overly paranoid because I'd never actually found an apartment for myself. My parents picked out the place I lived in during college, and then we'd followed Edward to the building.

But this was mine, my place. And I expected to be here a while, to raise my son here, so I wanted it perfect.

And the fifth place we looked seemed to be just that. It was only a few miles from Rosalie's parent's house. And it was near a park. And it was only a mile or so from my new job. It seemed so surreally perfect.

"What do you think?" I asked her as we walked into the room that would presumably be my son's nursery. Well, second nursery. He'd live with Rose and her parents, and I'd get him on weekends and whenever she needed me. That was the deal we had worked out. It killed me that I wouldn't get to see him more than that, but I didn't want to piss Rose off and lose Elliot completely.

"I like it a lot. It's spacious and open and I can get you an interior designer. I mean, if you want one. If not, that's great too." She looked at the floor and then back up at me. "I'm trying not to force my will on you. And it's a lot harder than I thought it would be."

I smiled. "I like that you're strong willed and have opinions, Rosie. And, yes, I'd love it if you would help me get an interior designer so that this place looks decent. Edward is a talented artist. And I can't even paint a wall correctly."

I laughed at myself, remembering back to my freshman year of college. My parents were coming down to visit me, so I had tried to fix the holes in the wall that had appeared after one of my crazy, illegal keggers. But then I needed to paint the spackle and I couldn't find the right paint color at the hardware store, so I bought an all new color.

It looked horrible—drippy and sloppy and horrible.

Rosalie laughed quietly. "I remember."

"I like this place. Let's tell the agent." She nodded, that smile on her lips—the one that made my knees forget how to function, the one that makes me fall in love with her even though I'm trying really hard to just be a friend. She doesn't need me to go be all wishy-washy with her. Maybe I still loved her, but rushing back into a relationship would not be wise.

***

EPOV

Every aspect of my life seemed to zoom forward at warp factor 10, which science fiction had told me to be impossible. But that's how it felt.

Emmett came back from California only to confirm my suspicions: he was actually a really decent guy. He was back on another plane a week later to move into his new apartment and start work.

Alice was planning her wedding to Jasper like the apocalypse was coming and she needed to marry him before the zombies attacked, eating all of our brains. She got her birth certificate from her mom. She and Jasper applied for a marriage license the next day.

Bella spent most of her time doing her graduate school stuff. She typed and worked at the gallery all day. A few days of the week she had night classes. If it was a day she didn't have a class, I'd make dinner while she wrote. Then we'd eat together. And then she'd go back to writing.

Every day was rapid and scheduled and busy.

And time passed.

It kept going and going and going. Until a Tuesday morning.

My phone rang, but I ignored it, tightening my grip on Bella. Then her phone rang. She, of course, answered.

"Hello." Her voice was low and gravelly, the way it always was in the morning. Then she gasped and sat straight up in bed. "Edward. Edward."

I forced my head to rotate on my soft pillow so that I was looking at her smile. "Yeah, he's right here." She handed me the phone.

"Get your ass on a plane," Emmett said from the other side of the phone. "Come meet your nephew."

"He's…there?" I laughed at myself. So very articulate at seven in the morning. Which meant it was five in California. "Why didn't you call when she went into labor?"

"It was late last night. And she was going crazy. I wasn't allowed to leave her side. She was kind of mean." He laughed quietly. He still loved her; I knew that. "But, forget that. Get here. Rosie wants you guys here."

"She wants us there?" I asked incredulously. "Who constitutes 'you guys?'"

"Everyone. Tell Jasper and Alice and Jane and Alec and get here."

"Seriously?" I asked again.

Em sighed. "Yes. Now for once in your life, listen to your big brother. I want you to meet Elliot."

"Okay. See you soon."

Bella had gotten out of bed halfway through our conversation. When I went to find her, she was in the walk-in closet packing us each a bag. I kissed her temple.

"I already called Alice and Jasper. She said she'd tell Alec and Jane," Bella informed me.

"What do you need me to do?" I asked.

"Plane tickets."

"On it," I said. My laptop was in the living room. I got online and ordered six tickets.

The airports were busy. The plane ride was boring. But I was buzzing with excitement as we neared the hospital in our rental SUV, the only thing that could accommodate all of us and our luggage.

Emmett met us at the entrance of the hospital. He grabbed me and hugged me tightly to him. He hadn't done it in a while. I'd missed it. It's not like we were ever a touchy-feely family, except maybe my mom. She expected a hug before we left for school and before we went to bed, even up to the night before I left for Europe.

"How is he?" I asked when he released me.

"He's healthy. Beautiful. He has Rose's nose." He smiled. "Thank you all for dropping your lives and coming. It'll mean a lot to her."

Everyone smiled back and insisted it was no bother. I was sure Jane was frowning on the inside. Last I heard, she and Rosalie were still bumping heads. Then again, Rosalie and the world bumped heads.

So that we didn't overwhelm Rose, Bella and I were the first ones to go with Em to see them. She was asleep when we got there. Em had the nurse bring in Elliot, while Bella sat down beside Rose. It seemed they were friends, at least when one of them was asleep.

The nurse came back and put him in my arms, while Em hovered beside me. I sat down for my brother's mental sanity. And I looked at his son, at Elliot. I never would have imagined a year ago that it would be like this.

Em was right; he was beautiful.

"He looks a bit like dad."

Em smiled. "I think so too," he said. "Maybe he'll even have his blonde hair, which neither of us got."

"Isn't it recessive?" I asked. Emmett gave me a 'how the hell am I supposed to know' look. "I think so. Which means that you're a carrier, so it's possible."

He was quiet for a few seconds, so I looked up at him. "I miss them. Especially on days like today."

"Me too."


End file.
